Unmade
by SouBU
Summary: Graduation marks the end of youth and the end of the Service Club. The high school romantic comedy never plays out. Years pass, and a neurotic Hachiman serves as a detective in Tokyo amidst rising crime rates. He finds himself embroiled in a lawsuit after a confrontation with a felon turns deadly. If things weren't chaotic enough, his assigned lawyer was… Yukinoshita?
1. Where We Belong

**Chapter 01: "Where We Belong"**

 _My belly touched the compacted earthen ground as I laid prone within the brush. I was overlooking a rough and winding dirt path that led to a bridge. The rusted tops of its metal towers could be seen peeking above the trees, gleaming a blanched red in the sunlight._

 _Millions of years of erosion from the river below had made the cliff walls into sheer vertical heights. As a result, I was forced to engage the enemy at a closer distance than I, as a marksman, would have been comfortable with. At this range, an assault rifle or carbine would have been preferable, but we had none to spare, so there was no choice but to go with the DMR._

 _We had gotten word that an enemy force was coming to investigate the disappearance of one of their squads from two nights before. This was nearly the worst case scenario. They could not be allowed to even catch a glimpse of our compound. So we set up an ambush at one of the many choke points that had been scouted out._

 _My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of loud diesel engines. Their rough mechanical whirl echoed off the stone walls, instantly overpowering the sounds of fauna within the jungle. I looked through my scope and see the tell-tale sign of black exhaust smoke that was quickly approaching._

 _"What do you see...?" A voice next to me asked before cheekily adding. "... Sarge?"_

 _"Stuff it, Hikaru."_

 _My brusque answer was met with a chuckle. I sighed before giving him my observation._

 _"Two trucks, open tops. Eight guys, no… ten maybe? Probably ten."_

 _I could hear Hikaru rummage through his belt as he pulled out a flashlight. Although the light wouldn't illuminate anything in the middle of the day, it could still act as a method of communication if your allies knew where to look. Hikaru moved his flashlight in a cross three times, informing the rest of the team know that nearly a dozen bad guys were on the way. [1]_

 _The caravan of cars continued down the road, coming closer to our desired location. The faces of the soldiers in the group came into view. Some covered their heads with scarves, while others proudly displayed their noggins. All were armed with wooden and steel guns: AK-47's, the age-old rifle from Russia that became the symbol of revolution and rebellion all over the world. Cheap and plentiful, it was a common sight to see them proliferate throughout this war-torn region._

 _They soon arrived at a downed tree, its trunk having fallen across the road and blocking their progress. The two cars came to a halt. To my pleasure they were staggered, giving me full view of the driver's seat of both cars. They began yelling at one another, my rudimentary grasp of the language was enough to know that this was an argument over who should move the obstruction. The laziness one would expect from untrained soldiers, I guess. No matter._

 _"Hikaru, give me a bearing at the point of contact."_

 _"Uhhh, 70 meters? Give or take one or two." Hikaru responded, eyeballing the distance between us and the enemy._

 _The men in the back of the trucks all stepped off, the caravan seemingly having decided to work together to get rid of the tree. My shoulders and arms tensed momentarily, but my training kicks in. I forced myself to take a slow deep breath, focusing on the feeling of my lungs expanding within my chest. Not yet, I told my body as I exhaled slowly, I had to be calm._

 _Four men had separated from the rest. Two of them held a rope between them and began to tie it around the trunk. I saw the cautiousness of the enemy disappear as they underwent their task. None were on watch, no one even gave their surroundings a cursory glance. They made the error of relaxing while out in the open in the middle of a civil war where both sides used guerilla tactics without restraint. Amateur mistake. A fatal one._

 _I made my move._

 _I pressed the trigger once, the 7.62 by 51 millimeter standard NATO round of my sniper flew through the air and punched a hole through the windshield of one of the vans. The driver was killed instantly. As soon as the bullet left the barrel, my arms were already in motion. I ignored the backwards concussive force of the recoil, and quickly readjusted my aim. Before the spent casing of my first shot could even hit the ground, I fired off another with a quickness._

 _"Two dead." I confirmed with Hikaru._

 _With drivers out of action, the enemy had no easy way to retreat, and my team knew this. My second shot was their signal to come out of their hiding spots, springing the ambush and engaging the enemy. Our opponents weren't dull by any means, and quickly took whatever cover they could and attempted to fire back._

 _"Hikaru, they're holed up in that ditch." I informed my spotter. "Can you smoke em out?"_

 _"Way ahead of you."_

 _I felt him lift from his prone position into a crouch, but then immediately it was followed by a sound not unlike a bag of potatoes hitting the ground._

 _I removed my eye from the scope and looked over. Hikaru was motionless on the floor with clean hole in his forehead that began to ooze with deep-red blood. The enemy had no idea of our presence over here, and this was likely the result of a stray bullet from the gunfight up ahead. Either from an enemy or ally._

 _Who knows? It was simply a case of supremely bad luck either way._

 _Something oblong awkwardly wobbled out of Hikaru's hands. It was the size of a baseball and had a dark green bubbly surface._

 _A grenade, and one without a pin._

 _My eyes widened at the realization, and I quickly rolled over and covered my face as all sounds are swallowed by a ringing noise and my world went white._

Δ▼Δ

Eyes snapped open and I raised my head, now suddenly awake in…

"Hikki?"

… a very familiar room.

"Hikki…?"

The light from a low setting summer sun illuminated the room in a warm orange glow through the large windows at one end of the room. Tables and chairs were stacked haphazardly in a corner. A comfortable and inviting space.

"... Hikki…?"

I turned my head from left to right. The same old whiteboard. The same old door. The same old table that I sat at the end of, with two other chairs being the only other used pieces of furniture in use. This was the storage room that was turned into the headquarters of our beloved Service Club. Something tugged at my heartstrings as I look at my two clubmates who -

"HIKKI!?"

I jumped in my seat, startled by the shout of Yuigahama Yui, my bubbly and boisterous classmate who I had just gotten close to last year. I looked at her in fright and saw vivacious brown eyes that were narrowed in annoyance and her cute face scrunched into a pout. Her pink hair was tied into her trademark bun. I couldn't help but think that she looked like a pastel colored chipmunk with her puffed cheeks.

"Uhh… what's up?" I asked lamely.

"Mou, Hikki! I was calling you for the longest time you know." She huffed in anger. "But you kept ignoring me! Yukinon was telling us something important and you didn't even say anything when we asked you a question!"

"Yuigahama-san." Scolded a smooth voice that was as clear as a bell. "While I understand your displeasure, we must remind ourselves of Hikigaya-kun's condition. Being able to sleep upright with his eyes open are symptoms of a strange new disease called Hiki-somnia."

My eyes turned to stare at the speaker of this insult. Sitting in her chair with a straight posture, Yukinoshita Yukino struck a majestic figure. Black hair and blue eyes adorned a beautiful and calm fac. One that earned the imagination of many, as well as cruelty from others. Her eyes that were full of mirth was accompanied by a small teasing smile.

The strangest feeling of longing bubbled in my chest, as if I hadn't seen these two in years. Which made no sense, I see them for club activities almost every school day. That dream must have really messed me up.

"Sorry… didn't mean to space out." I apologized with a level of sincerity that shocked even myself.

Yukinoshita and Yuigahama looked surprised at my words. Their eyes widened momentarily before giving me identical exasperated expressions and gentle smiles.

"C'mon Hikki…"

"Really now…?"

I rubbed the back of my head in embarrassment.

"So you were saying? Something about Yukinoshita?"

Yuigahama nodded her head vigorously, making me scared that her neck might break under the force her cranium was exerting on it. Yukinoshita cleared her throat.

"As you all know, I am traveling abroad… to do my higher education overseas."

Oh yeah. That.

"And, and, and!" Yuigahama interrupted while raising a fist into the air. "Me and Yukinon decided to make a promise!"

"A promise?" I parroted back. This was news to me…

"Yup!" Yuigahama flashed a bright smile before scooting her chair over and wrapping an arm around a now thoroughly flustered Yukinoshita. "We promised that when Yukinon comes back to Japan for good we all have to meet up! All three of us! The Service Club Reunion!"

"Well, the Service Club hasn't ended yet, so we can't really call it a reunion." Explained Yukinoshita as she gave Yuigahama a tender look. "But that is what we talked about. So what about you, Hikigaya-kun?"

A sense of déjà vu hit me and I felt a need to respond, to say something. My heart beat wildly against my ribcage, causing my body to shudder in agony with every powerful pump. But when I opened my mouth, no sound comes out. My throat doesn't vibrate any of the air to form the words I want to express. I was drowning in a sea of air.

Yukinoshita looked concerned at my movements.

"Hikigaya-kun, are you alright?"

"Cat got your tongue?"

Of course she would say that.

"Hikigaya-kun?"

"Hachiman?"

Hold on. Did Yukinoshita just call me by my given name? Impossible.

"Hachiman!"

"HACHIMAN!"

Δ▼Δ

"HACHIMAN!"

And so, I woke up for the second time this morning. I blearily opened my eyes to see a girl with purple eyes and long black hair in a white and blue uniform shaking my body violently.

"Hachiman! It's time to get up!" Exclaimed Tsurumi Rumi angrily as she pulled the covers away, exposing me to the cold air of my climate controlled room. I clumsily reached out to grab my cell phone that was charging next to me. I tap the screen twice to wake the device and was met with tall white numbers indicating it was 6:55 AM.

"It's too early." I groaned and flung my head back into the pillows. "Isn't it my day off? It's Wednesday!"

Rumi was having none of it today, it would seem, as she poked my ribs painfully.

"Uncle Kenji said you had a new case." She stabbed her index finger into my ribcage again to make sure I got the message. "Shizuka asked me to come over to wake you up. We know how uncoordinated you are in the mornings."

"Okay, okay." I surrendered and picked myself off the bed. "I get it. I'm up."

Rumi gave me a once over before walking out of my room. I yawned and stretched wide before heading to the bathroom in the hallway right outside the bedroom door to begin my morning rituals. I brushed my teeth quickly and begann splashing cold water over my face to wash away the sleep that still clung to it.

As I toweled dry, I caught a reflection of myself in the mirror. I didn't change too much physically from high school. My hair was still messy, except now long enough that bangs covered my forehead now. My face lost its baby fat and was more angular, as was the rest of my body. Combined with my ever present 'dead-fish' eyes, it made me look even more imposing and unappealing than before. 'The more things change, the more they stay the same,' as they say.

I made no attempt to comb my hair and stepped into the living room.

I had moved out of Chiba some few years ago, and came to live in this apartment complex in Shibuya, Tokyo because of work. The building was located in the residential areas and was quite spacious, if a little pricey. Located on the 9th floor, the flat was composed of a single living room, one bathroom, one kitchen, a tatami lounge, and one bedroom. The tatami lounge was turned into a spare bedroom since I was more likely to have a single person overnight rather than a group of friends to relax with.

I sat down at the dining table, waiting patiently for Rumi. It wasn't long before breakfast was placed down before me.

"Thanks for the meal."

It was simple and traditional: grilled mackerel, rice, some pickled vegetables from last night, and miso soup. Mornings like these were becoming commonplace, and I was beginning to worry that I was getting accustomed to this. Then again, Komachi did cook for me all the time back in the day.

Wow, I'm being super sentimental this morning. What gives?

My thoughts are interrupted by Rumi shaking my shoulder. She handed me a glass of water and an amber vial.

"I know." I responded softly and carefully took the items. "I wasn't going to forget. Thanks, though."

I popped open the cap and placed the appropriate pills on my tongue before chasing them down with some water. Rumi nodded in approval and sat down at the table to begin breakfast. Only when I saw her take a bite of her rice did I start to dig in myself.

"Huh, the miso soup tastes different today." I commented as I took a sip.

"You noticed?" Rumi said absentmindedly. "I tried using katsuobushi this time around."[2]

"Not bad..."

Our conversation ended there as we finished the meal. I helped Rumi with the cleanup by throwing away the scraps into the trash before handing the plates over to her to be washed in the sink.

Dressing for work was tedious but had a satisfying feel to it. I wore some black slacks and shrug on a light blue dress shirt. I slung a black tie across my shoulders and returned to the living room. Rumi was near the entrance, having removed her apron and hanging it on the back of one of the chairs. She was in the middle of slipping on her shoes with school bag in hand. Preparing to leave by the looks of it.

"Hey Rumi, you need a ride to school?"

"It's fine, Hachiman." She declined with a shake of her head. "Besides, your car attracts too much attention."

I shrugged. Can't argue with logic like that. She gave me a small wave before shutting the front door.

Well, time to finish up preparing. Back in my bedroom, I opened the dresser door and grabbed a set of leather straps that hung from a hook. I wrapped them around my shoulders, taking care to stretch and make sure it wasn't too tight, yet taut enough to not get in the way should rigorous movements be required. After double checking my access to the holster, I knelt to one of the bottom drawers. Pulling it open revealed a dark gray gun. A Heckler & Koch P30L to be precise.

I inspected the empty weapon as I usually did, pulling the slide once or twice to and checking the tension on the dual-action trigger. I reached further into the drawer and fished out a match weight that attached to the muzzle. When everything seemed to be in working order, I plucked a few loaded magazines and inserted one into my P30L . The extras were slotted into a few of the pockets my shoulder holster conveniently provided.

This process was one I did every morning without fail, whether I had work or not. Having a gun on my person calmed me, almost like how a baby needed a weighted security blanket.

I took a black suit jacket from its hanger before closing the closet door. I finished gathering my things and put on black loafers before leaving my apartment. On the elevator ride down to the lobby, I briefly considered driving to work, but quickly shot the idea down when I considered the traffic I might experience during rush hour. It was a better idea to go with public transportation this morning.

Oh crap, did I remember to lock my door?

It was a relatively cool summer morning. The shadows from the skyscrapers fell over the roads and sidewalks; providing shade that made for a pleasant feeling.

"The train for Kasumigaseki is now approaching the station. The train for Kasumigaseki is now approaching the station. Please stand away from the platform edge."

A silver train pulled up in front of me, and I joined the rest of the morning passengers in the car. It was an uneventful morning in Tokyo. Everyone was bustling to and fro, with today being no exception.

My eyes naturally began to wander over my fellow humans. Office workers who were fortunate enough to get seats were trying to catch up on sleep, while others wore panicked expressions because they were late to work.

Near me, students were chatting quietly to one another. No doubt, the latest gossip from school was being traded at light speed. I smiled inwardly when their conversation landed upon Japanese literature. One of the girls moaned loudly that she had forgotten to do the assigned homework.

The walk from Kasumigaseki station to the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department was a short one, and I soon saw the multistoried building made of drab grey concrete and glass. It was surrounded by a park full of green trees, with police officers and other office workers milling around before the official start of the workday.

"Senpai!" A voice called out and was followed by harried footsteps. I turned my head to see a man of my height running up to me. His brown hair was combed over neatly, and he gave me a friendly gaze with those bright brown eyes of his. He wore a black suit similar to my own, but had a white shirt and proper tie instead. Of course, this goody-two-shoes would follow the dress protocol to the letter.

"Shiba." I acknowledged gruffly. "Mornin."

"Good morning, Senpai!" he said with a smile. "It's rare to see you at the office this early."

Meet Shiba Suzaku, my partner and fellow detective.

Shiba and I actually go back quite a bit. We went to the same high school and had even worked together on the Soubu student council. He was Vice President at the time, and I was helping out the President because I owed her a favor. I only had a few memories with him, primarily dealing with the debacle that was the collab Christmas Party with a rival high school as well as the equally disastrous Cross Dressers Night (to this day, I still don't know how we got that to be approved).

"Look, we're not in high school anymore. And you've been working for the police longer than I have. Enough with the 'Senpai' nonsense." I grumbled.

Shiba gave a hearty laugh, as if this was some sort of running joke that wasn't embarrassing for me at all.

"I prefer it this way! Senpai's the one who does all the real work anyway."

"Yeah, but I give you all the paperwork." I pointed out. "Equivalent exchange, no?" [3]

"But Senpai is 'Senpai'."

Oi, you're starting to sound like a certain foxy kouhai I don't want to recall right now.

I sighed and let him call me as he pleased. I still don't understand why I bothered trying to correct him, but at least I can say I tried. We passed through the main entrance and look upon the main information desk that was manned by various operators who were fielding questions from concerned citizens and other officers.

"Ah, Hikigaya! Shiba! Good morning!"

An irritatingly high pitched voice greeted us, belonging to one of the secretaries at the front desk.

"Morning, Morimi-san!"

"... sup."

She frowned at my response. "What's with you?"

"Nothing. Just wondering why I have all these upbeat people around me."

"Ok? Well besides that, Hikigaya, are you free this weekend? A few of us and some people from Signals are going out drinking."

I knew it, there was always an ulterior motive to her greeting. No one would ever reach out to me unless they were naturally airheaded like Shiba.

"I'm going to have to decline. I'm going to be busy that day."

"Ehhh?!" She exclaimed in disappointment. "Hikigaya, didn't you say you had no friends? What plans can you even make?"

My eye twitched as I realized that my past self had sabotaged my future self. Quick, I needed an excuse.

"Well you see, I have a date… with my bed." Amazing display of intellect, Hachiman, that totally doesn't sound like degenerate behavior at all.

"... Hikigaya-san you're actually a mega creep aren't you?"

Secretary-chan's eyes nearly convinced me that the dirt on her shoes had more value than my existence. I could feel myself begin to shrink away. But never fear, my loner brain is always functioning at its highest gear.

"Why don't you invite Shiba?" I offered, gesturing to my partner. "He's a strapping young man, healthy as a horse. He'll be a good sacr- I mean drinking partner."

"Shiba isn't single Hikigaya, don't you know that?"

Shit, he isn't?

"Well actually..." Shiba spoke up and his eyes lost their luster and life. "My girlfriend broke up with me last month. I've returned to being a bachelor. Ha ha ha."

What a depressing laugh. Secretary-chan and I shared a look and nod, silently communicating that it was probably best if Shiba went in my stead.

"Well then, Shiba has plans for this weekend now. We'll be heading into the office. Thanks." My parting words were accentuated by me shoving a lethargic Shiba down the hallway.

"Oi, Shiba. Where are we supposed to be?"

He told me lifelessly to go to the interrogation offices. A few choice words brought him back to the land of the living and he's once again a fully functioning human being who is leading me down the confusing corridors.

The interrogation wing wasn't new to me, but I was not used to the number of people that were there today. Police officers in uniform stood to the side while detectives and PIs talked in earnest as they changed rooms. I felt all eyes snap to me as soon as I stepped across the saddle on the floor. Murmuring began in earnest.

"He's back."

"Who's that?"

"One of our detectives."

"What? At his age?"

"We're understaffed as is. Word is that Chief just pushed him up from training."

"Chief Tsurumi?"

"Yeah. Apparently, he's close to the Chief's family."

"So you think he got parachuted? Chief Tsurumi pulled some strings to get him the job?"

"Maybe… I would stay away from him. He's got a bad vibe, some rumors about how he deals with criminals don't sit right with me."

"Why?"

"According to Miwata in Records, he's a wicked interrogator. Gets them to give it all up, like they're in a confessional and he's the priest."

"Sounds disturbing…"

"Not only that. Get this, word is that he came from the‒ "

I smiled sardonically at the whispers. My reputation in the office was controversial, to say the least, due to my rapid rise in station. It felt strange hearing others talk about myself. And they were right to a certain extent, but a bit of me burned in anger for getting the Chief involved in it. As if the Chief did something wrong, when all he did was give me the opportunity to make myself less useless.

A tap on my shoulder cleared away these thoughts.

"Senpai, don't worry about what they say."

I looked over at Shiba and blinked.

"I understand that Senpai feels a bit off‒ "

"The case." I cut him off.

"Huh?"

"...the case." I repeated, intent on switching topics. "Tell me about the case. Chief assigned it to me last night, I didn't have enough time to review the manilla."

"O-oh…"

Shiba rummaged through his bag, pulling out a notepad with clear and detailed writing on it. Typical honor student behavior.

"27-year-old journalist Kitamura Elaine was reported missing by her mother-in-law 6 days ago. Authorities finally found her body, half submerged in the Konaki river."

Autopsy showed that she had engaged in sexual intercourse prior to her death, the coroner is certain she was raped. Her hands and legs were tied together with duct tape, and was used to cover her eyes. There were numerous injuries to her torso and thighs. Most likely blunt force impacts from the way the bones of her ribs snapped. Likely explanation is that the perpetrator had kicked her violently. There was also cranial injury, suggesting she was beaten over the head at some point. However, that wasn't what killed her: it was death by asphyxiation.

She was choked.

I scoffed as the details of the case became more harrowed by the second. Grisly murders like this? Whatever happened to my country? Gods of this land, I demand you return my peaceful Japan to me!

"Hold on." I interjected. "I thought the Chief didn't want me working on homicides?"

"That still stands." Shiba yielded. "But it seems that your special 'skills' may be required to resolve the situation promptly."

I felt like a playable hero character in a competitive multiplayer video game. But I was only used as a super-niche hard-counter that players would turn to because of specific circumstances. My stats sucked elsewise and the fans didn't like my ugly design so they wouldn't even buy my alternate skins. Such was my misery.

As we reached the door to our assigned interrogation room I heard Shiba speak to me hesitantly. "Also… the district attorney is supposed to come in today…"

"What?" I asked, absolutely blindsided by this piece of information. "No, no, no. Not happening. Why is he here? The Chief knows I don't like him. I told him I don't even want to be in the same room as that guy."

"Senpai, he's not that bad!"

"Oh yeah? I don't agree. These past 6 months that I haven't seen him were the best 6 months of my life," I said angrily as I open the door with more force than is appropriate. "I don't need my interrogation hampered by an out-of-season Santa Claus. He can go suck a fat di-"

"Ara! Hikigaya-kun? Is that you?"

The blood rushing through my arteries and veins cooled into ice and my brain slowed to a crawl when I heard her voice. The hand I had gripping the door handle squeezed even tighter. What I can only describe as traumatic memories begin to seep into my body unbidden. A sweet and smooth voice that could only belong to a siren. A siren by the name of….

"Yukinoshita… Haruno…," I whispered, not believing my eyes that landed their gaze on a woman sitting with legs comfortably folded at the metal discussion desk before me. She was clad in an ashen gray suit and slacks, a far cry from the long skirts and blouses I remembered her in. A woman I hadn't seen since I graduated high school.

The first thing I noticed was her face. Sickeningly perfect as usual. The lightly applied makeup did little to ward off the fear that was emanating from my body. Her eyes looked at me with the same interest that a lion has when looking at a gazelle. Haruno's shoulder length hair was as I remembered it, yet no longer having the purple highlighted tips. She gave a lopsided smile and waved at me. I couldn't tell what mask she was putting on this time. Was she trying to be the ideal woman like usual? Did she still care?

"Do you two… know each other?" Shiba questioned as he looked over my shoulder. There was another man sitting next to Haruno, who I could only guess was an aide or secretary.

I could see the sly grin grow on her lips as a twinkle of mischief shone in her eyes. No doubt to be at my expense.

"Oh? Hikigaya-kun, you didn't tell your friends you used to have an absolute stunner of a girlfriend?"

See?

"He's not my friend. And we never dated." I quickly denied with a low growl. I wasted no time to walk forward and take a seat. Shiba mirrored my actions, although he was baffled by the exchange. Haruno's aide looked between us and then back at Haruno, clearly this development was new for him as well.

"Oh, don't be like that!" Haruno whined while reaching across the table and attempting to poke my cheek. I bent my neck awkwardly to avoid it, holding myself back from biting the offending appendage. "But I guess to you, it wouldn't be considered dating. After all, you were just playing around with poor old me while you kept thinking about another girl."

"Senpai?!"

"Yukinoshita-san, please…" the aide gave a weary sigh. He must have been working with her for a while if he could make a sound like that.

"What are you even doing here?" I asked, trying to make my displeasure as obvious as possible.

"What does it look like? I'm a lawyer of course." She gave a look as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You're a lawyer? I could have sworn you were in the sciences. And in Tokyo?" It was less of a question and more of an accusation.

"Just for my undergrad, I went to law school afterward. And I've lived in Tokyo for about 5 years now."

Well, that's the superwoman, Yukinoshita Haruno for you. And she lived in Tokyo for that long? Does that mean I only miraculously missed coming into contact with her here?

"Look, can we just get down to work?" I suggested tiredly, hoping for a change in conversation. Feeding Haruno's fire was at the bottom of my to-do list today. In fact, it wasn't even on my list. She was quite literally the last person I expected to meet, by virtue of the fact that I had blissfully let her existence slip from my mind.

The gods must have it out for me. This mortal apologizes for not knowing his place and being so ungrateful in demanding a safe Japan. Just keep my sanity intact, please.

Haruno expectedly, pouted. "Mou, it's been so long but you treat me so rudely."

 _Clearly, it hasn't been long enough!_ I snarked in my mind.

I looked around the room, not spotting the iconic sweating visage of our lovely district attorney.

"When is the DA going to get here?" I assumed Haruno had a hand in the current situation.

Haruno's pout evaporated and transformed into a predatory smile that sent shivers down my spine. "Why Hikigaya-kun, I AM the district attorney."

My frozen mind shattered into a billion pieces. Haruno was neither old, nor obese, nor ugly, nor stupid, nor annoying. Ah wait, she's probably as annoying‒ if not, more‒ than the old guy. Where's the old geezer? There's no way she's actually….

"You're the one prosecuting for this case!?" I blurted out, shock written all over my face.

"Yup!" She confirmed happily, resting her dainty chin on a bridge of perfectly manicured fingers. "Decided to use my law degree and enter the field to help my dad, and I've been working to succeed Tokyo's DA for a few years now."

"And it seems you did." My eyes narrowed. Having Haruno as my direct superior was definitely the worst case scenario in life.

"But of course! Don't tell me you doubted your Onee-san." She winked at me, but I made sure to keep my face as stoic as possible. But my heart went turncoat and despite my anger, it skipped a beat at the pretty face whose attention was entirely on me. "Enough about me, what about you Hikigaya-kun? I have to confess, I never imagined you to be a public servant with your working philosophy. And the police force at that."

"Yeah well, that's just how the chips fell." I vaguely responded in a dismissive manner.

If Haruno was actually the DA, we could get started. I didn't want to answer any more questions about my life if I could help it. The eldest daughter of the Yukinoshita's was a foe that would take a kilometer or three if you foolishly gave her a single centimeter. The less info she had to work with, the better. For my own mental health of course. "So what's going on with this case?"

Haruno's face became serious as she pushed a blue binder in my direction. I took it in my arms and was surprised at the heft. I flipped through its contents, seeing pages upon pages of mugshots and profiles of various people.

"We have thirty-two suspects for the murder of Kitamura Elaine. We want to narrow down the list. Chief Tsurumi has told me you're skilled at profiling and interrogation."

Fair enough, I could see why I was called in despite this being a homicide case. In addition, most of my job was already done for me. But….

"I was only told of the case last night, and I didn't get base details until a few minutes ago." I admitted. "Can you tell me anything more?"

Haruno tapped her cheek before opening her laptop.

"On the night she was declared missing, Kitamura Elaine and her mother-in-law had made plans to have dinner together at Kitamura's residence. The mother came at the agreed time, but noticed that the front door was left wide open as well as a broken window on the first floor. The mother looked through the house in search of Kitamura, but found nothing. She noted in her witness statement that she had seen that the sheets of the master bed were twisted and crumpled, other signs of struggle were also found."

"So a private house? And she contacted the police immediately?" Shiba inquired.

Haruno nodded. "Authorities had begun searching as soon as the report was received. Outside of her home, we found tire marks on the ground. The vehicle could not be identified, but judging by their wear and extrapolating the likely weight of the car we can assume that it belonged to either a four-by-four, an SUV, or a truck of some kind."

"Witnesses say that they saw a white pickup truck driving along the Konaki river the day after the disappearance was reported." Her aide threw in, handing me a sheet of paper with witness statements.

"Evidence is unusually sparse, but we had found some large boot prints on the ground outside the house, followed by footprints. We assume that these belong to the perpetrator and that he most likely led a barefoot Kitamura out of the house."

"Was the shoe print analyzed?" I passed the witness statements over to Shiba, who accepts it with a studious look and began to pour over it.. "Something we can work with?"

"Suspect is probably male." Haruno answered. "Around 170 centimeters tall, about 45 kilos."

"Our perp was underweight." Commented Shiba. "Severely, actually. Normal BMI ranges of weight ranges around 54 to 55 kilos at that height."

The analysis by Shiba stuck in my head and I returned my attention back to the ringed book in my hands. As expected of Haruno, she already sorted through the list, all suspects were within that height and weight range. So what else could we glean to help narrow this down?

"Kitamura Elaine, huh?" I hummed. "She sounds like she's foreign."

Haruno nodded in affirmation and began to explain the past of the victim.

Kitamura Elaine's father was an American diplomat, and her mother was a professional chef from Canada. The two were divorced, and Elaine spent time with both. She mainly lived in Japan with her father, but had gone to Canada for her middle school years and stayed with her mother for that time.

Kitamura returned to Japan to finish high school and enter Tokyo University, where she graduated with a degree in journalism. According to her professors, she was a relatively good student with a solid work ethic. She never wronged anyone and had no obvious enemies. She worked as a technology journalist on consumer electronics for an online periodical under a pseudonym. Elaine recently married her high school sweetheart, Kitamura Keisuke, an engineer at a construction firm that's involved in heavy industry.

I raised an eyebrow at the name. "And her husband is a suspect as well?"

"We couldn't confirm his alibi." Explained the aide.

"That's fine, he's not the one who killed her anyway."

"Excuse me?" The aide sputtered. I see Haruno lean forward in interest, no doubt wanting an explanation. I sighed.

"The mother-in-law was going to the couple's house for dinner while the husband was away. I would say they have a good relationship. Which implies that the marriage was a happy one, or at the very least functioning. Why kill your wife in the home where your mother will frequently visit your spouse?"

I tapped the mother in law's statement, which lay equidistant between me and Haruno.

"Also, there are too many unnecessary risks. This is not the behavior of someone who is a career engineer. This is his house, why would he have needed to break the window? If he lived in this house he would have developed habitual motions like closing the front door as soon as he leaves. Yet it was left open and was the first sign to his mother that something was wrong. This murder was too haphazard. Clunkily executed. Poorly planned. I would say it was done on impulse, maybe a day of strategizing at most."

"Hmm, that sounds logical. However, even if it wasn't Keisuke who killed Elaine, we still have 31 more suspects to parse through." Haruno threw me a flirtatious smile. "I look forward to working with you over the next few weeks, Hikigaya-kun~."

Heh.

Luckily for me, that wasn't the case at all.

My lips unwittingly curved into an ugly smirk as I looked down at a certain page in the Binder o' Suspects. "I wouldn't say that. I think we can solve this case in a day. This day, in fact."

Haruno's smile faded away and she looked at me as if I grew another head. Her aide had a similar expression.

"Hey." I called out to her aide rudely. "Do we have a description of the car that was seen driving down by the river? Did it happen to look old? Rusted or patina surface?"

"Y-yes it did," Said the aide as he fumbled through his folder until he found a loose sheet of paper. "It was a white pickup truck. Both headlights and taillights were functioning, and a few witnesses said it had some minor body rust."

As I thought.

I laid the binder down on the desk, and flipped to a page. I turned the book around and pushed it towards Haruno.

"I want to interrogate this person."

"Why him?" Haruno asked as she dragged a finger along the lines of the bios of the suspect with her index finger.

"Call it a gut feeling."

Δ▼Δ

As I had expected, the suspect I wanted to talk to was at home and agreed to come down to the station right at that moment. In a few hours, he showed up and was escorted into the interrogation room by Shiba.

Our man of interest looked exactly like his mugshot: motley pale skin, and sunken eyes. He wore a grey hoodie and khaki trousers, as well as black boots. He couldn't see us through the one-way mirror, but we could see him just fine. He was sitting on a chair on one side of a simple wooden table and was fidgeting.

"Shiba, make sure to record this," I instruct my partner as I made my way out of the discussion room.

"Yes, Senpai."

I briefly nodded in the direction of Haruno and her aide as I exited.

I stood in front of the door to the chamber letting tension leave my body.

The success of interrogation was determined before questioning even began. The countenance you projected when you first meet with the suspect was vital.

I calmly opened the door and walked in with a confident stride, making sure to avoid eye contact. I stepped over to a table that was located in the corner of the room and remove my jacket and place it on the table, followed by my gun and its holster. I wanted to make it clear that I had no weapons on my person, make myself as non-hostile as possible to him.

I imagined the persona of a certain blonde riajuu bastard with an indestructible fake smile. If I recalled correctly, he had this way of speaking that used gentle intonations to put others at ease. One of the aspects of 'The Zone' as I had called it.

I let myself fall into this facade; copying his mannerisms in a way only I could due to my years of observing him from a distance and dissecting his thoughts and behaviors. If you can break it apart, you can reconstruct it. I slipped into that smile, and imitated his pronunciations. All in the pursuit of making my suspect comfortable, because if he was comfortable he would be willing to talk.

And if I could get him to talk, then I win.

"Hello." I greeted him with the trademark toothy smile that I loathed. Ugh. "I'm Detective Hikigaya Hachiman. Sorry for calling you in so suddenly."

I started off with an apology, a classic disarming technique. Being in a non-hostile state, the apology would interpreted as me lowering myself to him, allowing me to slip past his suspicion filters.

"Before we begin, I just want to say that I'm an interrogator and I will be asking questions. But I want you to know a few things. I personally believe in treating everyone with respect, and I hope you can do that as well. If you don't wish to be questioned anymore, the door behind me is unlocked, and we'll have one of our aides walk you down to the front."

"O-okay." The man responded with a hint of relief in his voice.

"So let's start simple. Who am I talking to today?" I carefully pulled back the chair opposite him and took a seat, maintaining a steady distance between us.

"M-Miyagusuku Ren."

"Miyagusuku-san then?" I repeated back to him. A conditioning tactic. By repeating his own words to him I could remove any sort of feeling of intimidation. After all, I was indirectly asking him to confirm my information, which slowed down the conversation and made it easier for him to keep up. He would feel as if he's the one in control. "Where do you currently live?"

"Out by Saitama."

I whistled. "Wow, Saitama? That's pretty far by public transportation. Did you happen to drive in?"

"Y-yes, I have a car."

"A car? That's fortunate." I nodded and leaned back in the chair. "Thanks for taking the time to come here. I understand that you must be a busy man, what exactly do you do for a living?"

"I'm a f-financial analyst," Miyagusuku says, eyes flickered to meet mine before returning to stare at the surface of the wooden table before him. "I work from home."

There, an opportunity.

"I see, a financial analyst… is it because you feel uncomfortable around people?"

My claim causes Miyagusuku to look up at me in surprise.

"Sorry, I just thought that you and I act pretty similar," I said in an empathetic tone. "I was a loner myself most of my life. Still am, if I'm honest. I have my own trouble with crowds and people, to the point that my high school advisor took it upon herself to 'rehabilitate' me by forcing me to join a club."

Acting under the assumption that Ren was anti-social, I took the initiative in talking. No doubt this would dramatically reduce whatever stress or apprehension he was going through. And I knew it worked because he chuckled along with me at the conclusion of my story. I notice a slight flicker in his lips. He was trying to smile, probably meaning that he was relaxed around me. He was not suspecting any ulterior motive.

It was time to begin specific questioning, while the defenses were down.

I leaned forward and asked him quietly. "Did you know Kitamura Elaine?"

Miyagusuku's eyes widened before he looked at me with discomfort in his eyes.

"She was the wife of my friend, Keisuke. We met occasionally, even before she was dating him. We used to be a trio in university."

"I'm sorry for your loss. It seems like you were close."

"It's fine." By the way his fist clenched momentarily, he wasn't.

I procured a manila folder filled with evidence and gently placed it between us, making sure to let him get a good look at the sheets and images I was using.

"Because of the nature of the case that the police are investigating, it's a rather long and tedious procedure." I explained slowly. "Have you watched procedural cop dramas before?"

"Sometimes…" Miyagusuku trails off, unsure where I was taking this conversation.

"Oh good, then you're probably aware of our forensic capability, and I don't have to explain. This speeds things up considerably."

Miyagusuku nodded.

"So," I said, starting off with a verbal punch emphasizing to him that I was serious now. "What would you be willing to give me today, so I can take you off my suspect list?"

Wording was everything.

"What do you need?"

"Oh, you know…" I trailed off, pretending to look for the words to devalue what I was requesting of him. Lower his guard towards the idea. "Would you be willing to give fingerprints and blood samples?"

"Yeah, sure. I can do that. Is that it?"

"Umm, for the full picture I guess it would be great if you could also give us some footwear impressions."

I catch the telltale flash of distress as his eyes flick to his shoes before returning to me.

Little does he know, but I had him at a crossroads. It all depended on if he called my bluff. He could demand a lawyer now, and slow down the process at the cost of inviting suspicion to himself. Or he could risk giving me what I want, in exchange for potentially clearing his name. He doesn't know the evidence I have, and that was the hand I would stick with.

"Yeah, I guess I can give some of those too."

The trap was sprung.

I let my mask slide off my face, and this did not go unnoticed by my suspect. He flinched at my gaze. I didn't need to keep this act up any longer. All I needed to do now was push, and to do that I needed to intimidate.

"Unfortunately, Miyagusuku-san… your testimony isn't doing you any good I'm afraid. More things pointing towards you than away now."

"W-w-what do you m-mean?"

I leaned forward slowly, fully aware that this was agonizing for him. I grabbed the picture of the footwear impressions found at the scene of the crime and show it to Miyagusuku.

"This is a bootprint we found outside of Kitamura's house. According to this, the perpetrator is someone around 170 centimeters tall. A shoe size of 27.5 cm. Probably boots. In fact, probably like the ones you're wearing right now. And if I'm not mistaken, you're… 169 centimeters tall?"

The blood drained from his face as I continued.

"As a fellow loner, I know that we're creatures of habit. We're unlikely to change clothes day to day, never mind shoes. Hell, we're probably not even going to be interested in buying new shoes until the ones we wear fall apart. You work from home, you don't even use shoes often. I bet you wore those boots on the night of the murder too."

Fear. Pure unadulterated fear. He was frozen stiff by the realization that I had cornered him. He had lost the one chance to get away, it was time to capitalize.

"You're up a creek without a paddle." I declared boldly, standing up to look down at him. "I have enough evidence to throw you in a cell and extract information the hard way. And let me tell you, that won't look good in front of a jury. Or, you can come clean and make it easier for everyone involved. Your choice."

Miyagusuku didn't even consider his options.

He spilled.

I returned to the meeting room feeling exhausted. When I opened the door, three heads turned towards me. Shiba gave a thumbs up, letting me know that the entire interrogation was recorded as I wanted. We could splice it up and give it to Haruno for use as evidence in court. Speaking of…

"Oh my, Hikigaya-kun! Onee-san is impressed. Umu, very impressed!" She said as she walked towards me, her heels hitting the tiled floor with sharp taps. "You became a whole new person in there! I had to double check and make sure it was the same Hikigaya-kun. Very interesting."

"Umm, thanks?" I was unsure if this was a compliment or an insult.

"You had him eating out of your hand. It was like watching a puppeteer and his marionette. But…." Haruno looked at me questioningly, eyes objective and seeking. "How did you know he was the one?"

"Nothing that amazing." I shrugged. "His picture."

Miyagusku Ren's picture was a classic example of an antisocial loner who kept to himself. Tired looking eyes and sunken cheek muscles from habitually sleeping late and poor health practices. He works from home, despite being a financial analyst, cluing those observant to his loner tendencies.

The car further solidified my guess. The witnesses described a car that was a white pickup truck with rust. What's important was that this was not a new car: it was either bought used or was given to him. Miyagusuku confirmed that he did drive a car. Considering all the evidence that said he was a loner, there would be too much hassle and social interaction in order to buy a used car, and he worked from home so there would be no pressing need.

Which meant the car was given to him, probably by his parents who lived far away. The car was intended to make visiting them easier.

He was also affiliated with both the husband and wife, and had access to their house from prior knowledge. Not damning, but when you considered that he was a loner, things started to look peculiar.

A loner with a friend? I could attest from personal experience that he must have had strong emotional ties to them.

"If his relationship with them was broken apart by the two becoming a couple, he most likely had no way to cope with his emotional distress. All just a gut feeling, but it worked out, didn't it?"

I plopped myself on a seat and hung my neck over the headrest.

Haruno took the chair across from me, and I heard her sigh in awe. "I knew you were always perceptive, but this is another thing entirely. These jumps in reasoning… I can see why Chief Tsurumi recommended you."

"Right?!" Agreed Shiba excitedly to my side. "Senpai was specially invited by the Chief to be a detective! He's probably the best interrogator in the city. The other officers avoid him, so he doesn't get too much chance to shine, but they're just intimidated because he's ex-military ‒ OOF"

My fist planted itself into his solar plexus, instantly stopping any more words from coming out of his mouth.

"Enough outta you!" I growled.

"Military?" Haruno whispered.

Δ▼Δ

I made it a habit to attend the trails of the cases I worked on. It was to see how things proceeded, and how my interrogation may have helped.

Today was no different, just that instead of the usual DA that I hated, there was a familiar lady who was objectively easier on the eyes than her predecessor. I watched as Haruno stood up to prosecute Miyagusku Ren. She wasted no time after her opening statements to display the evidence: the state of the house, the tire marks, the bootprint, and the condition of Kitamura Elaine's body.

And then she played the shortened tapes of the interrogation.

Miyagusuku was best friends with Keisuke and Elaine, but he had a crush on Elaine. A crush bordering on obsession. Miyagusuku was unable to confess to her, worried that it would destroy the friendship he had made with the two. But Elaine didn't seem to share his worry.

She approached Keisuke, and the two began dating, to an absolutely devastated Miyagusuku.

As the years pass, Miyagusuku visited and watched the two. He was invited over for dinners and holidays, being their 'treasured' friend and all. These just served to inflame Miyagusuku, who could never move on from his love. He became more emotionally confused and angered. He never wished for things to change. But Elaine didn't value the same things as he did. She betrayed the trust he put in her, and he could never forgive her. But he couldn't forget what he felt towards her either. He hated how she entered and remained in his thoughts for years, toiling with these feelings he loathed. He wanted her out of his mind. Permanently.

Maybe by getting rid of Elaine, he would be at ease?

The final clip shown to the jury was Miyagusuku confessing to killing Kitamura Elaine.

 _Res ipsa loquitur._ "The evidence speaks for itself."

Haruno unilaterally destroyed the defense within minutes, shredding apart the circumstantial evidence and flimsy reasoning they brought up. It was a foregone conclusion, the jury barely deliberated for twenty minutes before they declared Miyagusuku to be guilty of premeditated murder, and was looking from 20 years to life in prison.

I followed the crowd as they file out of the courtroom. I was about to turn the corner before a relatively painful smack to my back caused me to turn around and be met with a smiling Haruno. I involuntarily shivered at the sight. This was a trap, wasn't it?

"Let's go out for lunch, Hikigaya-kun!" Her voice invited me with the clarity of a thousand wind chimes. The stares of the lawyers and other bureaucrats bored into me with drills of envy and hate. I cursed Haruno's slyness. With all these people around to witness, I couldn't just shoot down a direct invitation from the DA. My fears were confirmed.

"Fine." I sighed in defeat. Besides I had a question for her.

Haruno smile grew as she wrapped herself around my arm and began pulling me. "It's a date then!"

Oh no.

Chatter erupted behind us. Bits and pieces of how the daughter of a Diet Member and district attorney was having relations with a run-of-the-mill law enforcer of all things. Haruno took it all in stride, pretending to not notice the chaos she left in her wake.

We ended up in a small cafe, as chosen by Haruno since she had driven us. After our orders were given, Haruno spent no time before grilling me under the pretext of 'catching up.'

"Dad is going to run for Prime Minister soon, so Mom wanted the entire family to move to Tokyo as a sign of solidarity. I was already working at the DA's office by that point so it worked out for me. I moved in with them, closer to the heart of the city and the office, of course."

"Is that so?" I raised an eyebrow.

"You think there's more?" Haruno fired back, egging me on.

"You changed your perfume, and you dress far more conservatively than before. Maybe… a partner? A man?"

Haruno's mouth hung open briefly before she erupted into hysterical laughter that attracted the attention of the entire cafe.

"Oh my god, it's too good! I can't! Hikigaya-kun, you're the best!" She wheezed out between laughs. "There's a thing as being TOO discerning, you know?"

"My condolences to your boyfriend."

Our food arrived a short while later, and the conversation slowed in pace as we worked our way through the meal. Haruno's attention turned to me again, unsurprisingly inquiring about the things I was up to after high school.

"How long have you been working as a detective?"

"Two years, I guess. A year in training, before I was promoted to full detective. Been working at that for a year as well."

"I see."

Haruno picks up her glass of water with a dainty hand, a pinky extended.

"You're kind of different now," she said, out of the blue.

"Think so?"

"Yes… I thought you hated fake things."

"That hasn't changed."

"So what you did in the interrogation room with Miyagusuku was...?"

"..."

My silence was all that she needed to know, for I have nothing to justify myself with. We go silent once more and I ended up observing Haruno as she ate a European fish steak with butter risotto. She took small bites and chewed quickly. Her fingers move in a prim and proper fashion, never straying too close to the food, but neatly eating away at it methodically. Almost like a fairy.

"You know… you never asked about Yukino-chan."

I was in the midst of sipping my drink and began coughing violently at the unexpected question. I hit my chest a few times to clear up my airways and…

Yeah right.

As if things would go like that. I'm many negative things, but being stupid wasn't one of them. This is Yukinoshita Haruno we're talking about, the only reason we were even acquainted was because of _that_ person. I had expected this question from the moment I saw her in the interrogation room.

In reality, I calmly finished my drink before answering in a bored tone.

"To be honest? I forgot about her."

Haruno's face went blank and she had no response.

The meal ended in due time and my new district attorney never brought her sister up again. She offered to drive me home, but I declined as politely as I could (which wasn't very). I insisted that I wanted to take the long way home.

I watched as her car pulls away and joined the rest of Tokyo traffic. I spun on my heel and prepared to walk back to my apartment. My thoughts were in disarray, and I needed time.

I hated liars. I hated facades. I hated the masks people put on, changing it for who they were talking to. I hated things that are fake. It inspired emotions that could only lead to ruin and trampled upon the goodwill of others. It's something I hated since I was young, and still hated to this day.

I lied.

I was lying in the interrogation and I also lied to Haruno.

I was always thinking about Yukinoshita, almost every minute since I woke up from that dream.

Just why did I feel the need to lie?

Probably because I didn't want to regret a decision I made in my past. Did I say 'a' decision?

I meant 'many a' decision.

Lying got easier the more often you did it, and I'm a master at it now. An integral part of my arsenal. Thus, with everything I did now, I could say with confidence that I hated myself.

 **Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**

References:

[1] The number 10 in Japanese is じゅう (jyuu). In kanji,じゅう is represented as 十, a cross.

[2] Katsuobushi is dried and fermented fish flakes, specifically of skipjack tuna. These are used to make dashi, which is a flavorful broth. Dashi is the base of many Japanese dishes.

[3] "Full Metal Alchemist" reference. Equivalent exchange is a principle of alchemy that can be summed as: the value of what is given must have the same value as what was taken.

 **Authors Note:**

 **Hello! I have returned! Thank you all for waiting for this work to come out. This project has consumed much of my time and most of my brain power over the past month or two. The end of Volume 13 was pure suffering, and Volume 14 came out a year after this story was first published. There are somethings I know people will take up issue with, so I'll try to address them succinctly in this author's note.**

 **Firstly, LET'S PRETEND VOLUMES 13 AND 14 OF THE LIGHT NOVELS NEVER HAPPENED, MMKAY?**

 **Secondly, the characters will act OOC in some circumstances. This is due in part to how they changed since highschool because of different experiences. But I consider these to be logical and believable continuations from their canon teenage personalities.**

 **Thirdly, there are a ton of OC's. TONS. I apologize, but it just ended up that way. Watari didn't leave much for me to work with, especially since I moved the story to Tokyo.**

 **Onto this chapter! The case with Miyagusuku Ren and his murder of Kitamura Elaine is based on a real case that occured in Canada during 2010, where Russel Williams murdered Jessica Lloyd. The beginning of the story is a double dream sequence.**

 **Longer posts discussing the writing process and answering questions or responding to reviews will be posted on my Space Battles thread. To find it, simply Google "Unmade Space Battles" and it should you directly there. I would link it on my profile, but FFnet's everything is broken currently.**

 **Finally, huge shoutout to my great friend XioKenji. Without his support and constant encouragement this story would have never seen the light of day. Love you dude 3.**

 **Thank you for reading, and please rate and review. Feel free to leave feedback!**

 **-SouBU**

 **(Editor: XioKenji)**  
 **(BetaReader: Lord of Admirals 412)**

 _Revision Log:_

 _01/14/2019: Re-uploaded with grammar fixes._  
 _04/03/2019: Re-uploaded with arc title.  
_ _03/17/2020: Re-uploaded with overhaul of tenses and changes in word choice and sentence structure as well as major grammar fixes.  
04/18/2020: Re-uploaded with spelling correction.  
06/11/2020: Re-uploaded with retcon of his weapon. Originally a bolt-action rifle (M24) now a DMR (HK417) _


	2. Change Waits for No Man

**Chapter 02: "Change Waits for No Man"**

 _As you can see, refugees from the Southeast Asia region have come to the coast of Japan. They arrive with only the clothing on their back, and nothing to lose but their own children. Upon landing, they are provided with tents by the Self Defense Force and live on these beaches, forming refugee camps. They survive in uncertain winds; unsure of what their future might hold: what they will eat tomorrow? Will they be forcibly removed by the end of the night? Will they ever return home?_

 _Thousands are fleeing the political powder keg of their countries. But with boats and rafts made by amateurs and with sub-par materials, few are seaworthy. Many refugees die: some caught in storms and capsize, while others have their vehicles fall apart on their journeys to Japan, China, and South Korea. Even with the Korean and American Navy assisting with the migration, the death toll continues to rise. The President of the United States has declared this as 'an unprecedented humanitarian disaster.'_

 _United Nations peacekeeping interventions thus far have had limited success in quelling the violence, and the international institution is asking for member nations in Asia to increase contributions to help protect civilians caught in the crossfire. However, the abject failure of the intervention in the Sri Lankan civil war just three years prior is still a common point for debate in the global scene. Ambassadors are fearful of public backlash from home, should they commit to any action._

 _What is Japan to do in these turbulent times? With elections for Prime Minister on the horizon, many politicians have begun jumping on the issue._

 _Conservative Party member Ishihara Shin, recently had a passionate speech at a rally in Yonago. Here is a bit of what he had to say._

 _"We still have poor who are unable to eat. Citizens who are unable to find places to live and work with which to earn. Before we can take in these poor souls we must first fix the problems within our country! To do otherwise would be irresponsible, and unnecessarily cruel to the refugees! Why adopt a child when you lack the means to take care of yourself!? We must all come together to have our voices heard, and then can we‒"_

The news program was drowned out by the sound of my phone's ringtone; the melody of PreCure 5's "Full Throttle Go Go!" interrupting the speech by the named politician on TV. I recognized the number, even though I never had it saved.

"Hello, Chief?"

"Hikigaya? I need you in."

There was no room for negotiation in his voice.

Δ▼Δ

Tsurumi Kenji was a decorated law enforcer at the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. A career officer, Tsurumi worked his way up from a traffic cop to the resident Chief of Tokyo Metro PD. Many attributed this to his work ethic, numerous achievements, leadership qualities, general mindset and the state of the Japanese workforce where many saw rocketed promotions because of the dearth of personnel. And it seemed to be a trait that ran in the family: his older brother was Tsurumi Kenta, a Captain in the JSDF who was also well known for his capabilities.

Needless to say, I respected Chief Tsurumi Kenji a lot.

"We got a wild one this time, ladies and gents."

We had gathered in one of the briefing rooms. The kind that reminded you of a classroom, but for adults. Seats with attached tables were aligned in rows from front to back, each one holding either a police officer or a detective that was called in.

The Chief spoke loudly, but clearly and calmly, as one would expect from a leader.

Beside him hung a large sketch of a hooded man in a ski mask, on his other side was a blurry photo taken from a security camera and blown up in scale. The Chief gestured to the drawing and continued talking.

"We have a serial robber on our hands. Over the past week, this man here has been robbing bookstores at gunpoint. As of 14 hours ago, he's struck his fifth store."

He pulled out a notepad and began listing off features to the assembled group of law enforcement agents.

"Our suspect is a male, approximately 165 centimeters in height. Thought to be a young adult, maybe in his mid-twenties. He was last seen wearing an orange hoodie beneath a black jacket and blue jeans. We have some footage to show as well."

The lights dimmed as the projector rolled, showing us a low frames per second video showcasing the latest robbery. I noted that the suspect seems to be wearing skinny jeans, and I could see the beginnings of white text on his hoodie from certain angles. It was located on his left side, above his heart. There was limited audio.

 _"Put all of the money in this bag."_

 _"Do not think about calling the police, I am watching you."_

Awfully formal of the guy. It's one way to rob a store with grace, I suppose.

The video ended and the Chief answered various questions from the officers. The stores attacked were varied, some antique shops while others were chains. Times of the robberies weren't consistent, but were mostly in the evenings. However, he did strike two stores in one day in his previous robbery. Nothing was taken besides cash money. No one was killed or injured.

Yet.

"Hikigaya!" Called out the Chief suddenly, causing me to flinch and look up at him. The Chief was a handsome man, I could admit that. Swept black hair and purple eyes, with the beginnings of a five-o'clock shadow that seemed to make him even manlier. And that's without talking about how fit he was. But he wasn't intimidating, he had more of a parental sternness. "What do you think, detective?"

I was being called upon, in a way that I couldn't avoid attracting attention. The Chief seemed to be taking some ideas from Hiratsuka-sensei's playbook. How… annoying. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. No matter how times I did it, a part of me still hated the thought of people looking at me, judging me.

"Our suspect is probably a college or university student. Height and age descriptions match up. His clothing choice is also contemporary, he's wearing skinny jeans and a hoodie. The hoodie might be from an extracurricular club, if what I saw was actually an insignia on the front."

I leaned back and make eye contact with the Chief, who looked at me in approval. Spurred on by his validation, I continued.

"During the robbery he intonates his words properly, and he goes out of his way to avoid contractions. He also uses formal grammar and sentence structure. I'm thinking that he majored in something to do with liberal arts. Probably writing or literature. Could be public speaking or philosophy as well, but less likely.

"Assuming he's a modern college student, he should be quite liberal in terms of mentality and leftist in political view. Probably not the type to normally resort to crime. College is relatively cheap, especially community or city-sponsored schools. But if we change the assumption to him being a graduate student, things line up better.

"Students don't receive financial aid for help with graduate school tuition. Loans are a must for any prospective academic. I wouldn't be surprised if our perp is pressured by student loans, and has been unable to find work with his degree. This could have led to failed relationships with parents, friends, partners and he's become desperate. Thus, robbery.

"But the question here is how or where did he get a gun? The one that springs to mind would be from the university he had attended. College campuses in reality are popular grounds for drug dealers, there are plenty of young adults who like to live life fast and fun. Recreational drug use is common. I wouldn't be surprised if the suspect got involved with the drug trade, perhaps as a source of income, or as a way to cope with his mental pressure. Easily a path to black market arms, and could get some from small-time criminals should he have the cash."

The final words flowed out of my body my mouth as the tension left my body. The room went silent at my speech, not even murmurs to provide background noise. But I could already feel the eyeballs on my person. I never spoke this loudly, or for this long, in front of anyone. But it's a scene that was becoming more common as of late.

The first time the Chief asked me for a profile of a criminal, I was still a detective in training. I had nervously spoke and stuttered my way through it, but managed. And it turned out that my guess was correct, which was both a blessing and a curse.

A blessing in that it was solid proof that I was useful at something.

A curse in that rumors spread around the office that I was some sort of occult voodoo mage who could read minds or something and accurately profile criminals from the strangest of clues.

I was never interested in defending my reputation, and my adult life was no exception. And so I found myself at an arm's length from my coworkers. I preferred it this way, work got done and I didn't have to talk unnecessarily to anyone.

"How can you be sure?" A voice directly behind me asked. I craned my neck to look at a burly officer who had his arms akimbo in a standoffish manner.

"I'm not sure at all." I answered truthfully with a shrug. "But the fact that he robs bookstores is a red flag. Not many people know this, but the markup on books is actually quite lucrative. It produces enough profits that the company Amazon was able to amass the initial financial capital to expand into other businesses, and eventually become the most valued firm in the world.

"Only people who would be aware of this fact are those that are in the know. Someone familiar with the book industry. Putting two and two together, he's a graduate student of literature."

I turned back towards the Chief and slouched further into my seat in an attempt to stretch. "The suspect will want to go rob bookstores in areas he's familiar with. He's not a criminal by trade, he's been driven to it. If he knows the layout of the store, then the likelihood of success for the robbery goes up. He must have either lived in Tokyo or went to school here, so we can guess that the next attack will happen in the bookstores downtown. Specifically around the universities."

I sighed and gave the final piece of information I could deduct. "He'll want to reduce witnesses and lower chances of someone calling the cops. Expect him to strike in the mid-evenings, when most readers and students tend to go home. That's what I would do anyway."

The Chief put on a victorious smirk before he began to bark out commands. "Folks, Detective Hikigaya has given us a profile. I want potential areas to be listed and patrols formed within the hour. This man is armed, make sure to gear up properly! The rest of you are dismissed!"

The room sprung into action as officers took their orders and began to file out of the room to complete them.

"What a freak."

"He can't be human, can he?"

"He's got a screw loose. Maybe six. I'm telling you right now, this profile might as well the perp's biography."

"Creepy as hell. He has to be psychic, right?"

The chatter was accompanied by more side long glances, but I remain seated, waiting for the last person to leave before I make my own exit. Some habits never die: once a loner, always a loner.

"Hey, Hikigaya!" Called out the Chief from behind me. "Good work!"

"Whatever you say, Chief… "

Δ▼Δ

I absentmindedly left HQ, cutting my work day early without telling the Chief, and began wandering around. I didn't take my car to work again today, and so opt to take another scenic walk. My feet carried me downtown, to a bustling little metropolitan area. I walked past chic shops and admired the neon signage, letting myself get absorbed in the chaos of this quaint market district. Crowds walked by in strange routes and my mind managed to go blank for the first time today. I would truly be able to relax…

But for the second time today, I was interrupted by my phone. Two calls in the same day? Is this an omen? The caller ID is missing, but I decided to answer anyway.

"Hello?"

"Yahallo! Hikigaya-kun~!" Haruno answered back cheerfully.

I physically recoil at her voice and look at my phone screen to make sure it was actually her. I can hang up, right? No, she knows where I work, she'll just ambush me. Then I needed to negotiate. Talk briefly and limit the information you give out.

"How can I, uh, help you?" I'm off to a strong start, as usual.

"Are you free for another date?" Klaxons went off in my head, alerting me to the obvious presence of a trap.

"No." I reflexively denied.

"Aww, why not?"

"I'm at work." This was a believable excuse, and she knows what my hours are. This should work.

"Hikigaya-kun~!" She cried into the phone. "If Onee-san didn't know any better, she would have thought you were avoiding her!"

"Why are you speaking in the third person? And besides, I have no idea what you're talking about." Shit, shit, shit, why is she doubting me? Does she know something I don't?

"Onee-san doesn't like liars! Look to your left, across the street!"

My stomach dropped at these words, and I hesitantly followed her instructions. Lo and behold, Yukinoshita Haruno stood in that ash gray suit from yesterday, her pants befitting her frame far better than it had any right to be. She waved excitedly before bounding over and standing before me. I sighed deeply and allowed Haruno to drag me to a place of her choosing. Again.

I found myself with a cup of Americano at a coffee shop that was situated within a bookstore. My company for the evening being the she-devil herself, seated across the small circular table.

"So, have you kept up with anyone from high school?"

Why does the topic always come back to me?

"Does Hiratsuka-sensei count?"

"Oh?" Haruno looked surprised. "That's a name I didn't expect to hear. I haven't heard from her in years, how is she doing?"

"She's doing pretty well. Has a house in Shibuya." I took a sip from my cup and contemplated how much I should I say. "It's nice. She still looks out for me too. "

"Is that right?" She leaned forward and whispered. "Do you live with Shizuka?"

The innuendo didn't go over my head, but I refused to give her the reaction she wanted.

"No."

"You're no fun." Haruno pouted cutely. "So you live alone then?"

"Yep."

"How are you feeding yourself? Can you cook?"

"I'm a master of making instant ramen. No other man can perfectly measure the amount of flavor powder to bring out the greatest taste in that champion of cheap and filling food for the blue collar worker."

Haruno giggled at my speech. "Aficionado of instant ramen, huh? That doesn't sound too healthy! Are you still single?"

Ah, here we are.

"Of course I am."

"But you had girls crawling all over you back in the day. What a shame…"

"I resent such an outlook!" I said fervently. "Bachelorship is the ideal living situation for a young man in the city. Being single is financially beneficial, no need to spend money negotiating relationship sanity. It's preferable for your mentality too! Imagine not having another boss at home to deal with. Its bliss no matter how you look at it."

Haruno broke out into bubbly giggles. I wait for her to finish. As she wiped the tears from her eyes she asked another question. "Do you at least have anyone in mind?"

A certain face popped in my head, and I quickly suppressed it. That's it, I was done playing games.

"... why are you really here?"

Maybe my serious expression and words managed to get through to her, for her face also turned somber. Which was an expression I never ever thought I'd see her wear. Like, never ever ever.

"Alright, alright. I'll stop beating around the bush." She took a deep breath and looked me in the eyes. "You see, I wanted to let you know that Yukino-cha‒"

The sound of a bell alerted everyone in the bookshop that a new customer had entered, which naturally attracted my attention. Haruno's words stop registering in my mind when I looked at the person who had just strolled through the glass door. I recognized his clothing: skinny jeans, orange hoodie, black jacket, and a ski mask.

Fuck.

I didn't even think. My hand flashed outward, quickly grabbing Haruno's hand and pulling her away before the man turned around. She yelped briefly as I shoved her behind a bookshelf. As I do so, I caught a glimpse of the man procuring a pistol from his jacket and firing a single shot into the roof. The deafening sound caused the customers in the store to scream in panic.

I was worried Haruno would do the same, and had my hand placed over her mouth. Impressively, she was somewhat collected and just looked at me fearfully. I heard chairs sliding wildly as the robber demanded everyone to get on the floor and keep their hands where he could see them.

I turned to Haruno and whispered fiercely. "I want you to stay glued to my back. I move, you move. Understand?"

She's frightened, but she nodded her head. She gripped the hem of my jacket tightly as I turned around. I slipped my hand into my jacket and removed my gun from its holster. The click of the safety being disengaged got Haruno's notice, whose face looks horrified at the presence of a weapon.

We slowly moved from cover to cover quietly. I peered through the gaps in the shelves to check where the robber was and what he was doing. We got to the furthest corner of the store, where the ice cream freezer was located. I pushed Haruno behind it and told her to stay there until I said it was safe. I carefully peeked my head around the corner.

The robber had his gun pointed at the cashiers head, demanding money just like in his previous robberies. All in that characteristic formal tone and voice.

From my vantage point, I had a clear view of the weapon. Dark steel and relatively small. I couldn't be sure, but it looked like a Chinese Type 54, a "Blackstar." Seeing a prime opportunity for intervention with minimal bloodshed, I carefully took aim, and fired. The sound of the shot momentarily stole the robber's focus, but the bullet already forcibly knocked the gun out of his hands before he could respond.

"Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department!" I stood up and kept my gun trained on the robber. "Put your hands in the air!"

I could feel sweat slide down my back, hoping and praying the robber wouldn't do something stupid.

Unfortunately, he did.

Before I could even react, the robber dove behind a fallen table and seized a man by the collar. A knife was held over the man's neck. "Don't shoot! I-I'll kill him if you shoot!"

"Let the man go and then put your hands in the air!" I ordered, keeping the sights of my gun aligned. "I repeat, let the man go, then put your hands in the air!"

"Don't come any closer!" The robber screamed as he jostled his hostage violently. "I'm serious! I'll kill him! I swear!"

The tip of his knife slightly pierced the victims throat, a small trail of blood fell and stained his white shirt. The robber's eyes are incensed and filled with madness. His pupils were far too large for it to be normal. Dammit, was he high right now?

My breathing was even despite understanding that the situation had gone from bad to worse in a heartbeat. I had naively wanted to end this bloodlessly, but now I regretted not going for a debilitating shot from the get-go. The more logical side of my mind tells me that this isn't the time to think about that. An innocent life was in the balance and I needed to make the best decision I could right now.

The distance between me and the robber and his hostage was four meters at most. The space that separated the robber's head from the hostage's was barely ten centimeters.

I've hit harder shots before.

I lined up the iron sights of my P30L.

I had held this gun for the better part of two years, and for that first year, nearly 8 hours everyday. I was intimately familiar with this weapon. I could tell you every ridge on its quad paneled polymer grip; every scratch on the barrel and slide; the way the trigger buckled after the first pull. Familiarity breeds confidence, and you could plan around behaviors that were consistent. The drill sergeant back during basic training imprinted that lesson in me. You don't become a good sniper, you get used to the gun and compensate for it. And this all comes through practice and time.

The principle was no different here.

Time slowed to a crawl as I pressed the trigger. The first point of resistance was the point of no return. My finger moved deeper until it reached the second action and passed through it. At that instant, the hammer hit the primer of the bullet and started a chain reaction that ignited the explosive powder inside the shell, creating a propelling force.

In a flash of superheated smoke and light, the robber was downed, blood pooling from the hole that sprouted in his forehead.

However, as he fell his knife gouged deeply into his hostage's chest, with the man shrieking in pain at the injury. They both landed heavily on the floor, and all was silent. I ran forward without sparing a glance at the dead criminal and placed my hands on top of the hostage's wounds. My hands quickly became covered with bright red blood as I pushed downwards with excessive force. Damn, this isn't looking too good.

"HARUNO!" I roared behind me "There's a phone in my pocket. Take it and dial the number I tell you!"

She yelped at the sudden call, but came running up to me at a moment's notice. I could feel her hands pulling the device from my jacket pocket. I gave her the unlock code and the number to dial. Only when I heard her talking hurriedly with Shiba did I return my attention to the victim on my hands.

"You got slashed with a knife. It's a clean cut, so it's going to heal just fine. I'll be here with you, to keep pressure on it so you don't go bleeding out, okay?"

I tried to speak as calmly as possible, exciting this man would just increase his blood pressure and make the wound bleed faster. I don't think I was too convincing. My tongue felt dry, like I had a rug in my mouth. A strange vibration shook the back of my brain, as if someone held a taser to my skull.

"T-thank you." Breathed the man below me. I could feel his faint heartbeat through my hands. I needed to make sure he stays conscious until the paramedics come.

"You got a name?"

The man looked at me with a funny expression, almost as if he can't believe I'm asking such a question in this circumstance.

"W-Watari Wataru."

That sounded familiar. Too familiar. "... you don't happen to be a novelist by chance? You wrote _My Teen Romantic_ something or another?"

"Y-yes!" Watari's eyes widened in surprise.

"I would say I'm a fan… " I chuckled darkly "But your latest volume really pissed me off."

"O-oh."

"I did want to kill you myself for that ending, but I guess the universe works in mysterious ways."

"W-what?!"

"You got any family that might miss you should you happen to die to a furious fan?"

"M-my mother and s-sister. F-father died when I was younger."

"No wife? You don't happen to be married?"

"I'm… married… "

"Any kids?"

"She's pregnant… our first."

Something broke within me at those words. She was going to give birth to a new life, and its father was out here on the floor barely holding on to his own. What the hell is wrong with this world?

"Listen here, you have to survive this, okay? And when you do, don't be a stranger to that kid. Always come home and greet them. Go to their events at school. All of them, even if their school band is off-key beyond belief. Always be home for the holidays. Always. Spoil them every once in a while. Just be there."

Halfway into my rant, I realized that I was saying all the things I wished my parents had done for me.

"You understand?"

"I-I‒"

"Promise me."

"I… "

"Promise me!"

"Y-yes… I promise." He heaved out.

Paramedics arrived after some time and took the injured novelist off my hands. He gave me a weak wave as a gesture of thanks before he was loaded onto the ambulance.

The store is closed off with yellow caution tape, the customers who were trapped were now being escorted out by police to waiting medics for health inspections. The crime scene was recorded by Forensics, the flashes of cameras going off like a stream of tracers around the dead body.

I think they even removed the copper penetrator from the 9-millimeter bullet I had fired. Apparently, it hit the wall behind the robber after it exited his skull. The coroner's office came in due time, collecting the robber's dead body and mopping up the blood from the two sources. They didn't do a thing about the smell, however.

"SENNPAIII!" A sobbing voice wails as I'm assaulted by an absolutely terrified Shiba. "Are you okay Senpai? Did you get hurt? Are you dead?"

"I wish I was dead now… " I held his face at an arms length to avoid his crushing embrace.

After convincing Shiba that I was fine, I walk over and edlean against a patrol car, causing a pale Haruno next to me to flinch. She stood in silence, tightly holding onto a blanket that was over her shoulders. I can tell she was shaken by the experience, so I didn't engage in conversation, simply letting her take her time to process events. She probably just had to relive it when her testimony was taken.

"You really have changed." She whispered in a voice so low I almost didn't think she spoke.

I don't answer, silently letting her know I was willing to listen if she wanted to speak more.

"You've changed, but at the same time you haven't." She laughed bitterly and puts her head in her hands. "You're still as reliable as I remember… but also more cruel."

I don't answer because there was no need, I agreed with her after all.

"Well… maybe not that cruel." Haruno recants and tilts her head at me. "I heard what you said to that man."

Oh, so she was paying attention to me. I flexed my fingers and start tapping the side of the car in staggered beats, unsure of how to respond to her. It felt less like a conversation and more like a therapy session, where I was being forced to listen to her thoughts.

"My father told me about… your incident," She said slowly. Once again, I'm not surprised, I had expected her to go digging as soon as Shiba opened his clueless trap. "I don't think it's your fault. But I'm sure people have told you that before. I just want you to know that I think your current self is a bit more interesting than the one from high school."

My district attorney leaned forward to look up at me with a small coquettish smile, a little more life on her face. "You're more direct now. I like this more honest-to-himself Hikigaya-kun."

I had the good grace to flush and look away to hide my embarrassment. "It's nothing like that. I just don't have the energy to pretend like I don't know what I want anymore."

I was rewarded with melodic laughter, which further reddened my face.

Before I could say anything else, a black limousine pulled up before us, a Rolls Royce with a pristine paint job and wax treatment. The door flung open as a man who I often saw in the papers flew out screaming.

"HARUNO!?"

"Daddy!?"

Haruno's father, Yukinoshita Yoshirou, had arrived. The doting father patted down his daughter hurriedly as if trying to convince himself that she wasn't a specter from the afterlife. The worried man was soon assuaged by Haruno that she was perfectly fine, and it was all thanks to me.

The elder Yukinoshita came onto me now, commenting how he hadn't seen me in years, and how much I grew since he met me at their mansion on that day. He thanked me profusely for saving his daughter from the bookstore robber. My efforts to deny my role went unheard, not a little hindered by Haruno's exaggerated recounting of my 'heroic' actions.

Yukinoshita Yoshirou shook my hand and promised that he would one day pay me back for what I did. And with that, they got back into the limo and returned home.

As I watched the Rolls Royce drive off, I took my H&K pistol from its holster and inspected it, noticing that I had forgotten to switch the safety back on.

My fingers brush the polycarbonate frame, its surface cool to my touch. No matter how much time since then, I was still shocked at how easy it was to snuff out a life. It barely took a second to end a man, but required the efforts of a dozen humans and much time to keep a person alive. I exhaled with a shaky breath and slowly put the handgun away.

Hopefully, this event would signal the end of my interactions with the Yukinoshitas. I couldn't handle the emotional roller-coaster that came with each meeting. The way every conversation pulled in a past I'd rather not think about, and questions I'd rather never deal with. This latest event was the cherry on top of a large 'NOPE' sundae. It would be great if I never saw Haruno and her family ever again.

Little did I know, the family I didn't want anything to do with would pay me back as they had promised. The very next month in fact.

Δ▼Δ

It was supposed to be a normal day at the office, but then the Chief showed up at my desk with a facial expression indistinguishable from a thunderstorm.

"Hikigaya?"

"Yes, Chief? … you don't look so good, Chief."

"You remember Ouma?"

Memories of our bookstore robber and the fatal confrontation were still fresh in my mind. If I remembered correctly, the deceased was named Ouma Daichi.

"I don't unremember him, if that's what you're asking."

"His family is suing you."

"... "

Come again?

 **Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**

 **Authors Note:**

 **Welcome to Chapter 02! You may have noticed that it starts quite strangely; with a news report of all things. I'm experimenting with different forms of world building. In future chapters we will have different types of expository mediums, I hope it's interesting and that you all engage with it well.**

 **As a general summary of this Alternate Universe I'm trying to build: the Southeast Asia region has exploded into civil wars and revolutions in a manner similar to the Arab Spring. The refugee crisis as I described was based on two periods: the Rwandan Genoiced of 1994 and the Syrian Civil War (2011 and is currently ongoing).**

 **The international community has always dragged its feet when it comes to humanitarian crises. I wanted to convey something akin to that here, although in the modern world there would probably be a tad more intervention due to the speed of information and communication via the internet.**

 **I won't sugarcoat it: this story will have a political backdrop. I know this is a controversial topic, but I want to make it clear that I'm not using this story as a soap box. The political drama is simply for world building and reader experience. Nothing more, nothing less.**

 **The hilarious oversimplification of the Japanese political spectrum is because I can't keep up with the names of the various political parties and their stances. The quick and dirty solution was to just dumb things down to: Conservatives, Porgressives, and the Moderates. I didn't take Asian Democracies in my political electives at university, so please forgive me, Japanese readers!**

 **And yes, the action scene was beyond unrealistic. However, dramatic effect everything else! I know how hard it is to disarm gunmen. Just bear with me, please. Also, did I really just break the fourth wall in trying tomurder Watari Wataru in my own story? Yes, yes I did. I had to. In real life, he isn't married and did not have a child, so I think this is a fair trade off :D. The timeline of events I'm putting together may seem strange, but don't worry too much about it.**

 **Thank you all for your amazing response to the previous chapter. Until the next upload,**

 **-SouBU**  
 **(Editors: Xiokenji)**  
 **(Beta Reader: Lord of Admirals 412)**

 _Revision Log:  
_ _01/14/2019 - Re-uploaded with grammar fixes.  
_ _04/03/2019: Re-uploaded with arc title.  
_ _03/17/2020: Re-uploaded with overhaul of tenses and changes in word choice and sentence structure as well as major grammar fixes._


	3. Snow White

**Chapter 03: "Snow White"**

After the book store robber, Ouma Daichi, died in an armed confrontation at a downtown cafe, the following month was uneventful by comparison. Probably because I hadn't seen hide nor hair of Yukinoshita Haruno.

Well, I say uneventful, but it was more like the calm before the storm.

The subsequent investigation into Ouma's motives had led to a search of his residence and personal effects. What was found was not a good sign of things to come. Vacuum sealed packages of powdered opiates were all over his person as well as his room. Individually packaged, identical in weight, and ready to be sold at a moments notice. Seemingly overnight, the final legs of an investigation into robbery had evolved into a drug trafficking case. I could already feel the reassignments inbound. Joy.

In the middle of all of this, Shiba had taken the opportunity to submit vacation hours.

Tch.

I had always hated corporate culture. They made their slaves work long hours and removed the ability to see friends and family (my equivalents being the bed and phone). A cruel and unusual system, it was made to pit comrades against one another.

Vacations were the apex of such punishments. Work was forced off from the lucky few who managed to gain freedom for a week and put upon the have-nots. The proletariat toiled away while the bourgeoisie enjoyed themselves.

I demand justice!

Chief Tsurumi walked into the office one afternoon. My desk was located near the entrance, but all the way against the farthest wall, so I was always the first to notice anyone who enters. The Chief wasn't looking at me, but was instead staring at the floor as he walked closer. His grim face filled me with dread.

"Was there another murder?" I asked preemptively, apprehension in my voice.

"No... no, that's not it." He shook. his head and then looks me in the eye. "... hey, Hikigaya?"

"Yes, Chief? … you don't look so good, Chief."

"Do you remember Ouma Daichi?"

The image of a young man holding a knife to that novelist's neck came to mind.

"I don't unremember him, if that's what you're asking."

"His family is suing you."

"... "

"... "

"Excuse me?" I must have heard wrong. Or this was a messed up comedic routine. The Chief wasn't the type to make a joke, but we all have our moments.

Right?

"I wish I was kidding." He sighed as he handed me an opened envelope. "His family is really suing you. I just got the letter from their attorney this morning"

My eyes ran through the letter as fast as they could. It was a dense wall of words filled with legal jargon, but I got the gist of it. It was addressed to the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department and was intended to inform them that one of their detectives (me) was being sued by the family of the deceased in a court of law. All under the charges of murder, excessive force, and manslaughter for good measure.

I'm speechless.

"You don't need to worry." Chief placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "The police force is behind you on this. The PD will pay for your legal fees."

My mouth felt drier than a desert and I struggled to find the words. I could trust the Chief, but no need to worry? I had never been sued before.

"That's all well and good… but I don't even have a lawyer."

"I thought so. I took the liberty of contacting the DA and see if they have any recommendations. Yukinoshita-san said that she's going to send one herself, we set up a meeting for tomorrow."

Yukinoshita-san? He means Haruno!?

"Hold on, wait, a lawyer from the Yukinoshitas?" I asked incredulously. "Never mind the court fees, I can't afford a lawyer like that!"

"Yukinoshita-san said that you might say that. She insisted that they won't accept payment for this. Something about paying back a favor."

The words of Haruno's father echo in the back of my mind. But of course. Right after I had hoped to never meet them again, fate pushes them back into my life. I suddenly feel drained, as if someone sucked the life out of my soul like some dementor [1]. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the sheer strangeness of it all.

"Hikigaya, clock out and get yourself home." The Chief sayid, causing me to snap my eyes at him in surprise.

"What? But Chief‒"

"Enough. Get yourself home and get some rest. I don't need you sulking around the office on top of being on overtime."

"The case‒"

"Hachiman." The Chief's voice mellowed to a gentler tone. My throat grew hoarse at the change. I had to turn my gaze away because I couldn't bear to look him in the eyes. "The case will progress, have some confidence in the rest of us. And even if it doesn't, it'll still be here for you. This habit of yours, to stay from beginning to end until everything is over, isn't okay."

"..."

"Just go and try to sleep. Shizuka and Rumi will have my head on a platter _al dente_ if they hear you pulled another 70 hour work week. You know how they are. If you want you can stop by the house and sleep over, I don't mind."

I shook my head, declining the offer. "... I'll head home." I decided that the Chief was right. I needed to process the news and consider what I wanted to do and the consequences of things to come. The Chief nodded in understanding and bid me farewell.

The drive home was a blur. When I entered my apartment, I jumped straight to bed, eager to give my mind some rest.

My subconscious, however, had different plans.

Δ▼Δ

 _It was noon, and the sun was at its zenith, shining down on my person with prejudice. The sweltering heat was made worse by the icky humidity and still air. I was secretly glad for that however, it meant that the smell from the field of corpses wouldn't spread around._

 _I waded through tall grass, moving from one carcass of a rebel soldier to another methodically. A battle had occurred here just hours prior. Both sides engaged in a brutal shootout that was only interrupted by a completely unexpected bombing run. Multi-role fighter jets from the United States of America Air Force were sent to enforce the temporary ceasefire that the two warring factions had agreed to on paper._

 _It seemed that the international community had enough of the bickering between 'children', and sent a warning message._

 _It was probably a bluff, seeing as how the last coalition of peacekeeping forces was demolished; no country would touch this shithole with a ten-meter pole. Even our own, to our dismay. To be fair, they probably thought we were all dead. And that wasn't completely false._

 _What probably wasn't a bluff were the rumors of economic sanctions that had begun bubbling throughout the villages the civil war had reached. The price of food and other living necessities would skyrocket soon, and ignite more conflict. Right now was a tough time to be living in this country._

 _I had brought along a few men to search alongside me, hoping to replenish whatever essentials we could: food, water, ammo, medicine, etc. Like the opportunist I was, I ordered them to sit back and enjoy the show._

 _As we watched the shells drop and shoot up debris hundreds of meters into the air, I couldn't help but wish we had a means of communicating with the pilots. It would be wonderful if they could flatten a 70-kilometer path from where we were to the closest standing UN safe zone, if third-hand intel was to be believed. We began our search for resources after the American intervention had subsided and the scream of afterburners could no longer be heard._

 _I leaned down when I see a body that had the characteristic patches of a field medic. By the fact that he had an actual uniform with insignias of rank and duty, he was probably a soldier from the existing government side. I used a foot to nudge it in order to ensure its deceased-ness. Luckily for me, it was still soft and fleshy, but long dead. I kicked it over and located his medical pack before proceeding to ransack it._

 _The supplies inside were absolutely indispensable, especially considering that it was barely used. Fresh bandages; gauze wraps; individually packaged alcohol pads; and even a trauma kit. Precious medicine was also within: a diazepam syringe; atropine syringe; antibiotic creams; a few tablets of paracetamol and ibuprofen. There were also some more practical items, like a water repellent heat blanket that would definitely be useful at night when the temperature dropped significantly._

 _"Sarge! Sergeant 'Dead Eyes'!" A loud and deep voice shouted out to me from my right. I turn around and laid eyes on a large man in similar uniform and gear to my own, but he wore a bright blue helmet characteristic of UN forces._

 _He jogged up to me at a brisk pace, as he got closer his features were clearer. Dark brown skin that covered the rippling muscles of a man in the prime of his life. He was easily half a meter taller than me and had no hair on his head and face._

 _"Danny." I sighed tiredly, getting fed up with correcting him constantly. "I'm a chevy-3, not a bar…" [2]_

 _Daniel Jackson ignored me gleefully and instead placed an object in my hand. It was a cylindrical metal tube with lenses on either end with some ratcheted knobs on its sides. "I found a scope off a dead sniper. I know yours was damaged in the last engagement."_

 _"Huh." I inspected the scope and saw that it was in remarkably good condition. A real prize of a find in this wasteland. I looked at Danny, letting the surprise enter my voice unhindered. "You know, Danny? You might actually be a good guy after all."_

 _"Hey!" He exclaimed, worry painted over his face. "Of course I'm a good guy!"_

 _I felt myself chuckling, which was amazing considering the circumstances Danny and I found ourselves in over the past four months._

 _"Hey Danny, help me out will ya? Strip off any NATO spec ammunition and mags you can find, and take everything from their med kits. Hey, you might even find some nine-mill for that German peashooter of yours."_

 _"Roger that, but what about the guns?" Danny inquired looking at the rifle of the medic I just pilfered from._

 _"What about them?"_

 _"I don't know… seems like a waste to just leave 'em with the John Doe's." [3] Danny shrugged and bent down to snatch a rifle. I watched him carefully pull the charging handle to check the condition of the internals and seemed satisfied with what he saw. "I was thinking that maybe we could arm some of the villagers. So that they have something to defend themselves with when we're out and about."_

 _"That's not a bad idea." I pondered out loud. It would definitely bring a lot of peace of mind if I knew that our villagers weren't helpless when we went to fight an enemy that came too close to camp. We only had a squad of around 8 people; down one man after the death of my spotter, Hikaru. Anyone could see that we couldn't be everywhere, and it would be dangerous to not move as a unit whenever we did need to execute an operation. The more I thought about it, the more appealing it became._

 _My thoughts circled back to the third week of my deployment to this island, and the chaotic night where smoke and fire were all that I saw and heard as men, women, and children screamed and ran in whatever direction they could, only to be met with gunfire. If we could give the villagers weapons, a scene like that would never occur again._

 _"Sarge…" Danny placed a hand on my shoulder. "... that little girl... it wasn't your fault."_

 _I turned away from Danny's sympathetic orbs, afraid by what I might see in their reflection. I gently shrugged off his hand and moved to the next body I spotted. "We've talked long enough. We have work to do… more of it now."_

 _Like a pair of vultures, we descended upon our area of this graveyard of dead soldiers. Methodically picking away at the valuables left behind by these men. Some had dog tags that reminded us that they had names and identities we weren't privy to. These carcasses that were still warm, probably had families just a few hours ago. Maybe even had dinner with them the night before. In that time between they probably laughed or cried as well._

 _My stomach churned at the thought that I was okay with this. Disgusted that I could condone the desecration of the bodies of fellow humans after death, that I didn't feel any worse for wear. Partially, it may be that despite me being a proud loner, I wasn't suffering through this trial alone. I had comrades who were in the same boat and had the same insecurities as I did. And that made it tolerable… almost._

 _I straightened and looked back at the man I could call a friend, one of the few friends I had in life. He wasn't that bubbly and naive pink haired girl; nor was he that cool and calm raven-haired beauty; nor was he a loud Japanese literature professor with a penchant for physical violence; nor was he a silver-haired angel with gentle demeanor; nor was he a fat chuunibyou with a questionable imagination. He was just a simple man who fought alongside me and also hurt alongside me. That's all._

 _Yeah, definitely a friend._

 _"Hey, Danny!" I shoutted at him. "I'm glad you're here!"_

 _All I could recall was the beaming smile he gave me, clear as day in that hot and sticky afternoon._

Δ▼Δ

The sound of my bedroom door opening roused me from sleep. Rumi popped her head in through the small gap.

"Hachiman?" She asked, uncertainty coloring her quiet inquiry.

"I'm awake." I mumbled as I flopped around under the covers like a fish until my hands managed to touch the beveled edge of my phone.

It's 6:55 AM.

I realized Rumi is still staring at me with a peculiar expression. And I stare back with a questioning one.

"Is something wrong?" Rumi asked hesitantly.

"No...?" I answered, unsure of what she was talking about. "Why?"

Rumi opened the door wider, letting me see her upset face more clearly. "You were talking in your sleep... about Danny again." She frowned in worry. Oh, yeah. She actually did know the story behind Danny. Well, I can see why she would be concerned then.

"I'm fine." I pushed the covers away and sat up. A yawn escaped my mouth as I stretched. "Just… reminiscing about a friend. Thanks for worrying."

"... If you say so." Rumi didn't look convinced as she turned to leave. "Breakfast is on the table, I'll leave for school after I finish washing the dishes."

The morning passed quickly and I'm soon walking through the lively offices in the Tokyo Metro PD headquarters after having parked my car in the lot. When I passed through the main doors I saw Shiba talking to Secretary-chan. She noticed me first and pointed at me with a slender finger. Shiba turned his head and gave me a smile.

"Good morning, Senpai!"

"Mark my words, I'm going to wake up early enough one day and muster the resolve to stab you in your sleep," I assured, injecting as much enmity in my voice as I could. "And stop being so damn cheery."

"Yes, yes, yes." Shiba waved away my threat with little concern as he took his place at my side, matching my stride as we walked to our departmental office. "I actually do need to talk to you about something."

"What's up?"

"Detective Hiura Hiroshi from our department has a clue on a potential drug dealer who was thought to be providing to Ouma Daichi. He was wondering if you could talk to the person and see what you could get."

I stopped in the middle of the hallway at the mention of the robber's name. Shiba stops as well and looks at me in confusion.

"Senpai…?"

"Hey Shiba, can you print me the final cumulative report on Ouma Daichi?"

"Yeah, I guess… I can get right to it. Does this mean you'll do it?"

I took a deep breath through my mouth and slowly let it out through flared nostrils. I clenched my hands repeatedly. "... I'm not sure."

"You normally do every interrogation request that comes to you." Shiba's concerned face grows more severe, like I just broke out into hives at a seafood restaurant. "Is something wrong?"

Yeah, something is definitely wrong. This imaginary restaurant doesn't have any cheddar bay biscuits. [4]

A guttural sound of annoyance came out of chest. "You are the second person today to ask me that exact same question. I'm not that damn fragile! Now go do your job."

I watched as Shiba gives me a crisp salute and runs off to Records to get that report I wanted.

Fragile.

Fragility…

When I thought of fragile things, I thought of glass.

And when I thought of glass, I thought of mirrors.

These shiny objects were as fragile as they come; too much stress at any single point can cause the entire formation to shatter into a million mutilating shards. Mirrors looked pristine right up until the moment that happened, giving us a perfect reflection of the physical world before they no longer could. And when it did break, it was broken forever. Never again to give us that honest copy of how the universe appears.

Was this how the human mind works as well? The psyche is supposed to be a reflection of how we felt, the human condition. A mirror for our emotions. When your psyche broke, did that mean that your emotions were brokenn as well? Do they heal to their original form? Or do they grow back twisted and warped? Do emotions even recover at all?

Are our deepest thoughts and foundations as fragile as mirrors?

I wanted answers to these questions, but at the same time, I'm afraid of what I might stumble upon.

Mirror, mirror, on the wall: who is the most broken one of all? [5]

Δ▼Δ

Later in the day Shiba and I loaded into a patrol car and drove to an abandoned factory on the edge of Tokyo Bay with some officers.

Ouma was known to frequent this location according to witnesses, and he was seldom alone. We were hoping to find some more information to expand how and where he obtained his drugs. Expectedly, the place was emptier than a school the minute summer break starts. I hadn't expected much, Ouma's customers must have caught wind of his passing and came back to take whatever they could before scattering.

I remained inside the patrol car, letting Shiba handle detailing reports and the other busy work he was good at. He was more thorough. Besides, I would probably slow him down if I tried to help. Instead, I took the time to read the file he had printed for me. As my eyes traveled line by line down the document, I was shocked at the similarities I had shared with our tragic criminal.

Ouma Daichi was 25 years old.

As a child, he was liked by his classmates and teachers. Described as a model student, he was quiet in class and frequently volunteered in neighborhood clean-up drives and elderly appreciation days. All apparently out of his own volition. No mental or physical issues were ever reported by doctors, family, or teachers. He was just a normal and good-natured kid, no one could find a reason to dislike him.

In high school, he received honors recognitions for his grades in Japanese Literature and Composition. He had taken Literature as his major in college and completed his masters as well. His thesis was an impressive text; a look into the evolution of kanji to express narrative throughout the major eras of Japan and various language reforms. It was well received by his peers, but didn't gain the recognition needed to attract sponsors.

All in all, the boy had a bright future ahead of him.

This was only possible with the help of his older brother, who had taken over the role as the sole breadwinner for the family. He supported Daichi's career in literature, absolutely sure that his little brother could become something. And he may have, but the elder brother contracted pancreatic cancer and died unexpectedly.

The responsibility of taking care of the family fell upon Daichi's shoulders, a burden I can only imagine stressed him to no end. He had applied to jobs as editors to publications and also teaching positions. Of his total 147 applications over the course of a year and a half, none netted him work.

The autopsy report stated that Daichi was doping on opiates and marijuana on a regular basis. Blood and tissue samples hint that this may have been going daily for weeks prior to this death. The composition of the opiates in his bloodstream match the chemical composition of the opiates in the sealed pouches that he was found with. Doping on his own supply he needed to sell. A cycle of self-destruction.

I stopped reading when I heard a tapping sound on the car window. I pressed the button and quickly winded down the glass pane so I could listen to Shiba.

"Chief called. He wants to see you. Something about a meeting."

I nodded and told Shiba that I was going to be taking the patrol car back to the station. He agreed easily and went back to documenting.

When I arrived at the station, Secretary-chan sent me directly to the Chief's office. She let me know that the Chief also had another guest in there as well. I could only guess that they were the lawyer sent by the Yukinoshita family.

I opened the door to the Chief's office and heard a voice that made me question if I was awake or not.

"Hikigaya…?"

Sitting before me was Yukinoshita Yukino.

I really wish the romcom gods would give me a break.

 **Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**

References:

[1] Dementors are creatures from the Harry Potter series. They're like hooded ghosts that instill fear by their very presence. When a Dementor "kisses" you, it sucks out your soul. Scary stuff.

[2] Hachiman is referring to rank insignias. Chevy-3 is short for "3 chevrons" (a chevron is a bar with an obtuse bend in the middle). In the Japanese Self Defense Force, the rank of Senior Private is represented by three chevrons pointed downwards. The rank of Sergeant is represented with a singular straight bar. Hachiman is saying that he's a lowly Senior Private, and not a squad-leading Sergeant.

[3] "John Doe" is the place holder name given by law enforcement to unidentified corpses.

[4] In America there is a chain of seafood restaurants called "Red Lobster." They these absolutely amazing complimentary appetizers, these cheddar-bay biscuits. Many people simply go just to have them. Let's imagine Japan has them, okay :D

[5] This is a parody from the famous line in the Brother's Grim version of the fairy-tale of "Snow White and the Seven Dwarves," where the Evil Queen asks the Magic Mirror, "Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?" To which the Mirror responds that it is Snow White. Which begins an assassination attempt. Yay.

 **Authors Note:**

 **Chapter 3 is up, and thus I have now broken my curse where I end stories after 2 chapters. I'm crying right now. This chapter is to set things up for events to come, the most obvious being the lawsuit and Yukino to come next chapter.**

 **Daniel Jackson is based off of a friend and classmate in real life who shares the same initials: Daniel J. He's a former member of the US Navy who did a stint in Kanagawa (Yokohama Harbor I think?). His insight into the soldier mentality and emotional state really helped me write this chapter.**

 **BTW, Dan. If you're reading this you owe me a new set of shot glasses after that New Year's party. I'm holding your car keys hostage until then :P**

 **I'm glad to see everything is enjoying the events so far. I wasn't sure how well I tackled the characters, and I was nervous about the OC's and whether they felt "real" enough. The positive feedback gives me some confidence.**

 **See you all for Chapter 04.**

 **-SouBU**  
 **(Editor: XioKenji)**  
 **(BetaReader: Lord of Admirals 412)**

 _Revision Log:  
_ _01/14/2019: Re-uploaded with grammar fixes.  
_ _04/03/2019: Re-uploaded with arc title.  
_ _03/17/2020: Re-uploaded with overhaul of tenses and changes in word choice and sentence structure as well as major grammar fixes._


	4. After the Denouement

**Chapter 04: "After the Denouement"**

Upon entering HQ, I headed straight towards the information desk where I saw Secretary-chan working away at her computer.

"Is the Chief in?"

She gave me a cursory glance and blinked once before tapping away at the keyboard once more. "He should be in his office. Although, he did have someone else with him, a woman with black hair and a suit. They went in about... mmm... ten minutes ago? She signed the guest log as 'Yukinoshita.'"

A Yukinoshita woman in a suit with black hair? The only person I knew that matched this description was Haruno. Was she going to be my lawyer for this case? Wasn't she the DA? Could she even do private cases? These questions whirled in my head as I stood in front of the mahogany doors to Chief Tsurumi's office. I knocked once and was greeted by his muffled voice from inside.

"Hikigaya? Come on in."

I twisted the door knob and enter without a word.

"Hikigaya...?"

My feet went numb as my ears are met with a voice as clear as a lone woodwind in a string accompaniment and thrice as smooth as velvet. The door shut behind me with an ominous slam, the change in air pressure created a slight breeze that caused her hair to shift. Sitting before me was a person I never thought I would ever see again in my life.

Yukinoshita Yukino.

The Yukinoshita family seemed immune to the ravages of time, and their youngest child was no exception.

The irises of the Ice Queen were a crisp and clear blue, a color that reminded me of a cloudless winter sky at noon. Flowing long black hair reached the small of her back, atop a face shaped like a gentle teardrop. Her skin was an unblemished pale-moon color tone, not dissimilar to milk or marble.

I couldn't tell too clearly because she was sitting, but she could be a little taller than the teenage Yukinoshita I was mentally comparing her to. She seemed more mature as well, if that was even possible. Then again, it could be because of her attire. A black suit covering a white button down shirt along with a pencil skirt that hugged her slim waist and hips. Professional and flawless, two words that summed her entire existence. At least on the outside.

The ex-president of the Service Club looked like she had just walked out of Soubu, not even aging a day. And she was observing me as if I was some sort of unicorn that just galloped in from atop a rainbow.

"Ah, yes," said the Chief as he cleared his throat. "This is Yukinoshita Yukino, the younger sister of our DA. Personally recommended by Haruno-san herself in fact. Seeing as how you were so close to Haruno-san, I thought that this arrangement would be beneficial… "

The Chief's words trailed off as he notices the lone guests in the office staring at each other. And besides Chief, what made you think I was 'close' to Haruno? Did you ignore how my eyes begged for help?

"... have you two… already met?"

I broke my eyes away from Yukinoshita, and instead looked at the Chief. My chest felt like it was being squeezed through a tube of toothpaste. "We, uh, went to the same high school back in the day."

"That is correct." Supported Yukino as she too, turned an empty gaze over to the Chief. There was an odd inflection to her voice. "Hikigaya… san and I were in the same club as well."

… 'san'? What a horrific honorific to be addressed by. I felt so uncomfortable that I was sure a ninja slipped an itchy woolen sweater over me just now.

"Is that so?" Nodded the Chief. "Hikigaya, is that how you met Haruno-san?"

I shrugged noncommittally. "Seems about right."

I opted to lean against the wall with my arms folded, pointedly not sitting in the open seat next to Yukinoshita. This act doesn't go unnoticed by the Chief, who put on a pained expression at my open display of rudeness. Sorry Chief, but there are somethings I really can't do; I might actually freeze to death if I were to take you up on your generous offer.

"Well then… let's get you two up to speed." The Chief opened his desk drawer and brings out the lawsuit letter and hands it over to Yukinoshita, who accepts it respectfully with both hands. "Ouma Daichi was a criminal who was robbing bookstores at gunpoint. The list of his crimes is about a kilometer long now: illegal possession of weapons; possession of Class 1 substances as well as possession of federally regulated narcotics, all without a prescription; theft; attempted murder; threatening to inflict harm upon others; etcetera. Now, his family claims that‒"

"Ouma was a scholar of literature." I interrupted him, my patience worn thin after I heard the rap sheet listed aloud. Dehumanizing was one thing, but lack of perspective was another. "He had a promising future... if he kept at it. He was kind to his elders and parents; his neighbors and classmates loved him. Overall, he used to be a good kid. Just unlucky, and got put into bad circumstances."

There's a moment of silence as both the Chief and Yukinoshita were studying me with varying degrees of interest. I looked away, half intimidated by their eyes, half uncertain what I was trying to communicate with my impertinent interjection.

"... yes. They claim that Ouma Daichi was perfectly sane and could have been talked down. They are insisting that Detective Hikigaya had taken excessive force when he shot their son. They claim it was murder without good cause." The Chief finished explaining and leaned back in his plush leather office chair.

"I see…" Pondered Yukinoshita as her eyes traced across the lines of the piece of paper in her hands. "I believe I understand the foundations of the case. I have a few more specific questions for my client that will need to be answered so I can structure a response." Her eyes flickered to my person briefly.

"Of course." The Chief looked back at me and crossed his legs. "Hikigaya, take one of the conference rooms. Let's try to get this over with as fast as possible. I need you."

"Roger that."

I waited for Yukinoshita to stand up before straightening myself. She followed me outside of the office and into the working areas of the building.

We walked down the hallway wordlessly, passing through the various offices and departments. The sound of her heels hitting the tiled floors registered louder in my ear than that of everyone else on the floor. Ok, that sounded really creepy, even for me.

"Senpai!"

As we walked past my department's door, Shiba's voice rang out, causing Yukinoshita and I to stop and turn. Standing in the doorway was Shiba and another man. This relatively unfamiliar face had cropped black hair and intelligent green eyes. He wore no coat, and had a white shirt with a blue tie and suspenders to hold up his slacks.

Shiba noticed my gaze. "Ah, sorry! Let me introduce Detective Hiura Hiroshi. He was the one who requested your help."

"Pleasure to meet you Hikigaya-san." Hiura held out a hand that I shake reluctantly. "I pulled in some kid who had some dealings with Daichi. He's in the holding cells right now. I was hoping you could get some intel off of him before we release him. Shiba says your good at this stuff, and after watching some of the tapes, I have to agree."

I glare at Shiba who claps his hands together and bows his head, begging for my forgiveness silently. I can only sigh, he meant well, and I can't really get angry at him for that. "I'll see what I can do. Just… don't expect too much." I tilted my head in Yukinoshita's direction. "Let me deal with this first. Shiba can handle the details."

My fellow detective gave a word of thanks before he and Shiba stepped past Yukinoshita and I. They simultaneously turned their heads to give the woman behind me curious glances. Typical of these normies, was the natural beauty of Yukinoshita too much to resist? I pretended to not notice Shiba raising an eyebrow in my direction. Yeah he remembered her, and this was definitely not a can of worms I was willing to open right now.

"Let's go." I told Yukinoshita, taking the lead once more.

I went to the information desk to retrieve a conference room key from Secretary-chan. She had given me a skeptical look at my strange request, but it quickly vanished when she noticed Yukinoshita's presence. The office worker's eyes widened and she grabbed my collar, pulling my upper body over the counter to my great discomfort. She was so close I could smell the pleasant scent of her perfume. It was kinda sharp but soothing. Green apples, I think.

"Hey, what are you doing!?" I hissed in agony. My stomach was being squished against the edge of the countertop. At this distance, I could tell what color bra she wore from just below her collar.

Purple, huh?

"Who's that girl, Hikigaya?" Secretary-chan whispered in a harried tone. "Don't tell me…?"

"This hurts, can you let go!?" I pleaded back in a whisper. My extended arms quivered as they attempted to keep myself from falling over headfirst into her; they were the last line of defense stopping my gallbladder from getting crushed. "Please!?"

"No way... were you hiding a wife from me? And she came to work to pick you up?" Her eyes began to glow with the embers of insanity.

"No." I quickly denied as flatly as possible. "She's just my attorney. And can you kindly let go?"

"Attorney?" Secretary-chan blinked and her eyes return to normal. She was quiet for a few seconds before a look of horror passed over her face. "Wait, so the rumors are true? You're being sued?"

"Unfortunately that's the case." And how exactly did she come across this? "Can you let me go now, please?"

Secretary-chan loosens her grip, allowing me to finally breathe normally.

"Here…" She hands me the keys lifelessly. "Good luck… with your problem."

"... thanks?"

The keys were for the conference room at the very end of the hall. Was this her way of sticking it to me?

When I returned to Yukinoshita's side, I felt her staring at me, and it persisted even after we walked down to the room we were assigned to. Ah, she has this odd look on her face now. Is it because of all the interruptions that happened on our way here?

"Sorry, about the delays. Things are a bit… hectic right now," I apologized. I have to remember that she was now a lawyer from a prestigious family and working for free, wasting her time was pretty insensitive.

"No, that's not it." Yukinoshita shook her head and had a contemplative expression as she spoke. "I'm just surprised. You don't seem bothered by all the talking. I thought… you hated being singled out."

The hand that was about to turn the key stalled. "Huh… I never really noticed."

We entered the conference room, which was a large rectangular area with numerous windows against both walls. The windows on the walls facing the hallways were covered with off-white venetian blinds, giving us privacy. In the center of the room sat a large glossy wooden table in the shape of an oval, with office chairs situated around it.

"... anywhere is fine." I commented as we both stood in the entrance, ramrod straight. We awkwardly take our seats, with me at the foot of the desk, and Yukinoshita placing herself a few chairs away to my side. No conversation started, neither of us knowing how to break open a topic. Unwilling to be caught in this uncomfortable silence, I opened my mouth to speak up.

"Do‒"

"W-we‒"

We both attempted to speak at the same time and quickly shut our mouths.

"Y-yes?" I asked, nervous at the amount of tension I was feeling.

"N-no! It's fine." Yukinoshita had a panicked expression. "Please go ahead."

"O-okay… do you… want a drink?"

"That would be… good…" She carefully selected her words. Then again she was a lawyer, it shouldn't be too strange if this was her standard speech pattern now.

"Is canned coffee okay?"

"... as long as it doesn't have too much sugar."

I rolled my chair backwards and make a beeline to the miniature refrigerator in a corner of the room. I open the door and quickly grab two cans of cold coffee. I hand one to Yukinoshita, who inspects the drink with hesitant eyes before accepting with a word of thanks. The only sound in the conference room is the sound of tabs opening the aluminum containers as we begin to sip away at our coffee.

Unable to bear it, I stared upward, intent on asking Yukinoshita to finish what she had begun to say before. As soon as my neck moves, I saw her eyes flicking to her side. Suddenly feeling self conscious, I looked away, but in that process catch Yukinoshita's eyes return to my person.

What the hell was going on!?

I needed to RTB ASAP. How do I finish this mission in a single go? I only need one engagement with the enemy right? The Captain said that blitzkrieg tactics were best in such circumstances. Right, then I need to-

"Well, then… Hikigaya-san," Yukinoshita suddenly said, catching me off guard. The way she addressed me made my skin crawl. "I believe it is best if we begin."

"S-sure. Sounds like a good idea."

Yukinoshita reached into her bag and took out a notepad and pen. "Let's begin with your version of events. What happened at the scene of the crime?"

Her voice was cold and despondent. Ironically, I felt more at ease with this tone. I began to recount the things that occured in that book store, taking care to include relevant details like approximate times and the order in which events happened.

"So you were at this book store, when you notice Ouma Daichi enter. You quickly escorted Nee-san to safety before deciding to engage him?" Repeated Yukinoshita as she looked at her notes with squinted eyes.

"He had his gun to the cashier's face. I was able to get to a relatively good position and disarm him. However…"

"He then took an innocent as hostage and threatened to kill them with a knife…." Yukinoshita finisheed my sentence and hummed to herself as she drew arrows between bullet points with her pen. "Is there a police protocol when dealing with such situations?"

"Uhhh kind of?" I closed my eyes trying to recall the class that had taught this. "It was more like a general guideline to follow, I don't think the police department has an official protocol. You'd have to double check."

"Can you tell me what they were, those guidelines in particular?"

"Well, for confrontations with suspects, a lot of it down to the judgement of the officer in question. The first step is always to verbally interact with the criminal, whether they are armed or not. Escalation only comes after diplomacy fails."

I held up three fingers.

"There are three tenants which you have to consider. Ability: does the criminal have the capability to harm others? Opportunity: does the criminal have a chance to use the ability to harm others? Jeopardy: does the criminal pose a real threat to the lives of yourself, others, or themselves?"

With each criteria listed, I lowered a finger. "In my opinion, I followed protocol. I disarmed the perp and asked them to cease and desist. He didn't listen, and then on top of that he escalated things by threatening to kill a civie."

"I'm assuming that you thought he was incapable of being talked down?" Questioned Yukinoshita, looking at me curiously.

"I would say so. I thought he was high on drugs at the time. Autopsy said he was doping. But that's after the fact, I guess. I feared for the life of the innocent, and Ouma had the ability to end it. I weighed the risks and took the shot."

"I see." Yukinoshita exhaled a tired breath and placed her pen down on top of her heavily inked page. "From my perspective, I would agree that you followed protocol. But this is from a person unfamiliar with the nuances, I'll have to ask Chief Tsurumi for whatever official police procedure there is so I can confirm.

"All in all, this should be an open and shut case. They don't have much in the way of footing, especially when I'm sure witness statements would corroborate your testimony. The fact that he was a criminal who was violent should paint a very poor picture in front of the jury. If we negotiate well, a trial could be avoided."

We could avoid a court appearance? That would mean that I could avoid weeks of stress and not lose days off work to go sit in a courtroom.

"That would be ideal," I said softly.

"I think so as well, Hikigaya-san."

I felt like something slimy had slid down my back, and I shivered at the use of that honorific. It sounded so WRONG when it came out of her mouth. Completely and utterly incomprehensible.

"Alright stop, I can't stand it. Drop the honorifics. I feel like I'm in some bizarre alternate universe where you're actually giving me a bit of respect. Call me something else, anything else. Just… drop that honorific entirely."

"..."

"..."

Yukinoshita's mouth was agape, and I slapped a hand over my own. Ok, I didn't mean for it to become that harsh near the end, I just went with the flow and ended up here. I could still apologize, right? The name wasn't that big a deal in the grand scheme of things.

"I-is that so...Hikigaya-k-kun?"

My eyes widened in disbelief. That's not what I meant! You could have just called me by the family name and be done with it! I was so stunned, I could barely cough out a response.

"Y-y-yeah t-that's fine."

I think… I'm so confused right now.

"Ahem!" She cleared her throat loudly and a small flush worked its way up her face. "Now that you have told me the events of the crime, can you tell me what happened beforehand? I just wish to know the proper context."

I described how I was called into work earlier than usual so the Chief could brief us on the case of Ouma Daichi that morning. Daichi had used a gun in previous robberies, so we were warned to go in expecting a gunfight as the worst-case scenario. The police force produced a profile and potential locations where the criminal might attack next. Teams were created and assigned appropriately. I left early that day and…

Yukinoshita's hand stopped, and she paused in writing notes. I think I saw her eye twitch, but I couldn't be sure. "You left work early that day?"

"... yeah?"

"... honestly, even after all this time he's still like this?" I heard Yukinoshita whisper something, but I can't quite catch it.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Nothing at all," She said, making it clear that part of the conversation had ended. "So you slithered out of work and you happened to encounter the criminal as well?"

Slithering is a bit much…

"Where are you taking this?"

"The likelihood of such an outcome is scarcely believable." Yukinoshita asserted.

"Y-yeah it is, but you know: in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"I'm afraid that you may be at fault for this case afterall."

Wait, what?"

"... you lost me." I admitted, my confusion making my voice lose whatever emotion it had.

"It is clear. Because of your lack of work ethic, you encountered the criminal. In fact, it could be said to have brought the criminal there." The look she gave me was so blank I could have sworn I was talking to a sheet of printer paper.

"Hold on, I think you just said something really outrageous there."

"But you did not deny what I said?"

"No, I completely deny it! And besides, it's not like its my fault. If anything, it's your sister's fault! She chose the place!"

"Oh? You didn't happen to meet her there by coincidence?" The temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees at that moment.

"N-no… we met on the street and she sort of‒"

"Well it's good to see that you easily fall to a pretty face, as expected. For a moment I thought that you may have actually improved as a human being."

"Didn't you just say I slithered two seconds ago!?"

The corner of Yukinoshita's mouth threatened to break into a smile, and I could see her physically struggle to contain her laughter. It didn't make things easier on me, and I let out a snort that caused Yukinoshita in turn to giggle softly. As if a dam had burst, I found myself laughing along with her. The tense atmosphere and awkwardness blown away with what I could only describe as…

"So this is what they call 'nostalgia?'" Asked Yukinoshita with her lips curling into an amused smile. "Not a bad feeling."

"Almost took me back. Though I feel like you missed an insult about my eyes somewhere in there." I notice a mischievous glint in her eyes and I quickly crossed my arms in her direction. "Nuh uh uh! Nope! You lost your chance. Let me at least enjoy my nostalgia in peace. I actually enjoyed high school, I'll have you know. Wouldn't mind reliving that for a bit, minus the abuse."

"Indeed… it feels so long ago."

"Well, I would say it has been some time. A lot of things happened between us graduating and now."

"... speaking of graduation… have you spoken to Yuigahama-san ever since then?"

"... I haven't." I admitted regretfully. I had lost contact with almost everyone I knew in Chiba after I left for basic training at the end of highschool. Yuigahama was no exception. A bit of me feels guilty that I never tried reaching out to her afterwards, but I was unsure how I would even begin a talk like that with someone like Yuigahama. Especially under the circumstances which we had separated on. I didn't want to assume too much nor cruelly let her read too far into things. So I took the path of least resistance and never bothered, irresponsibly letting it slip past my mind. "... have you?

"I have." She answered simply, wrapping her fingers around the can of coffee repeatedly, as if unsure with what to do with her hands. "You rarely came up in conversation, so it was unclear if you two still kept in touch"

The world around me temporarily shifted from the white daylight of noon back to the warm amber rays of a low sunset. Two of my closest people I knew were in there with me. Did I know what the future would hold back then? Did I ever imagine it going the way it did? When I walked down the aisle to receive my diploma, I still had the chance to change my plans. Did I do the right thing? The right thing for Yukinoshita, Yuigahama, or myself?

"Hikigaya-kun?" Yukinoshita's voice broke me out of reverie. For the first time this day, I made the mistake of looking her directly at her face. It captivated me like a work of art; I noted that she still wore her hair the same way, with two thin ribbons that separated into two tails on either side of her smooth face. I wonder if her skin was still as soft as I remember. "Are you alright?"

I shook my head to clear my thoughts and down my coffee in a single gulp. I tossed the empty can into the recycling bin before turning around to face her, making sure to keep my eyes away for her own.

"I'll feel better once we're through with this lawsuit." I say meekly.

Her lips formed a small smile as she agrees with my plan. "Let us reunite with Yuigahama-san after our problems are past us."

We finished up the rest of the questioning within the hour. Yukinoshita ended by saying that she was satisfied with this information, and that it was more than enough to build a strong counterclaim and defense.

"Worry not Hikigaya-kun, you are in good hands." Yukinoshita declared haughtily. "As a lawyer, my life's work is to ensure my clients get the best outcome possible."

"You mean your life's work isn't to inflict eternal misery upon me?"

"Please, Hikigaya-kun." She teased back, not missing a beat. "Your life's natural state is that of endless torment, you don't require my assistance in achieving such a goal."

"Touché." I felt a grin starting to form, and I try hard to push it down, but fail miserably. Any resistance was made impossible by this strange buzzing in my chest.

We left the office and I walked her to the outside of the building. She momentarily stopped to appreciate the lawn that was just freshly cut this morning, giving the grounds of the police department a park-like feel. Police officers milled around the courtyard and sat on the benches, enjoying the pleasant weather of the evening before work hours wrapped up.

"Hikigaya-kun."

I turned my head to my side and my eyes were temporarily blinded by the LED screen of Yukinoshita's phone that was held right up to my face. An impromptu flashbang, how devious.

"Hey! Quit it!"

"Let us exchange contact information. Phone number and email. I'll reach out to you if any developments happen as well as things for you to do. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask."

Well, I couldn't really say 'no' now, could I? It would seem that Yukinoshita does take after her sister in some areas. Maybe it just runs in the family? Now there's a scary idea. Imagining the two daughters turning into their mother was a horrifying thought experiment.

After we save each other's numbers, I continued to accompany her into town. The busyness of the evening rush hour brought bustling crowds and cars as people began their trips home.

"Thank you," Yukinoshita said suddenly, looking forward.

"Hmm? What for?"

"For keeping Nee-san safe. I don't know how to say the words that exactly describe my gratitude… but thank you… so very much."

I sighed in exasperation and scratched the back of my head. "Like I told your father. I was just doing my job, it's not that big of a deal."

"Still… thank you…"

"... you're welcome."

We reached the street corner, and am met by cars honking at one another at an intersection. Pedestrians filtered through the gaps of the cars stuck in traffic. Like a bees nest, everyone found their way through this area of high entropy. [1] I suddenly recalled something and I turn to my companion with some concern coloring my voice.

"Do you need a ride?" I asked Yukinoshita. "I brought my car."

"That won't be necessary. My hotel is near the subway, I'll be on my way."

"Don't get lost now." I joked, watching in satisfaction as Yukinoshita's face goes red in embarrassment.

"I'll have you know that my sense of direction has improved…." My lawyer pouted adorably. "... somewhat."

"Heh, whatever you say. I'll see you later."

"Yes. Have a pleasant evening, Hikigaya-kun."

She walked away, not turning around once to look back. I watched as her back got smaller and smaller, disappearing into the mess of crowds and buildings. She was gone, and the air became much easier to breathe in.

Meeting Yukinoshita again has solidified an opinion I always had: relationships are strange and fickle things. There's no consistency to them.

Yukinoshita and I had not talked in years, and that could be felt in our initial awkwardness. We both had expectations of course, but we were also aware that things change and people change. Whether it's because of society or some other external influence, behaviors shift. We were unsure if we could return back to being… whatever we were.

So imagine my surprise when we slipped into our familiar banter, bringing back memories of our verbal sparring matches in the Service Club. We talked as if nothing happened, as if that gap in time was never there.

It looked as if things hadn't changed.

But that was just on the surface.

Deep down inside, where those parts couldn't be seen. Many things could have been swapped around. Perhaps even removed. People become entirely different beasts, driven by different things even if they behave the same on the surface. Different animals within our old shells.

Source: me.

Neither of us knew how to act around one another, what levels of closeness are appropriate. Nevermind that, what about me? What did I feel was right? Was what I felt, right?

Unlike with Haruno, there was no undercurrent of anger at Yukinoshita reappearing in my life. In fact, I can't say I felt anything about it whatsoever. There was no stereotypical rush, no sensation of my brain melting. My mind didn't become a chaotic jumble of instinct and rationality at my old interest standing right before me. No desire nor longing. Not even the familiar sting of regret.

Almost the exact opposite of what had been felt when Yukinoshita and I had our last conversation in high school.

So…

Can I assume…

Does this mean…

Does this mean that I finally got over Yukinoshita Yukino?

 **Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**

[1] Entropy is a concept in thermodynamics. To oversimplify 3 years of college level chemistry and probably giving my lab instructor a stroke: entropy can be thought of as the idea that the universe always leans towards chaos and low energy.

 _Revision Log:  
_ _03/17/2020: Re-uploaded with overhaul of tenses and changes in word choice and sentence structure as well as major grammar fixes._


	5. Gifts and 'Gifts'

**Chapter 05: "Gifts and ' _Gifts_ '"**

It had been nearly two weeks since Yukinoshita had revealed herself to be my attorney. And with that, came a slew of problems.

The district attorney's office was in the middle of Tokyo, easily accessible by almost six different train lines for the convenience of its workers. Primarily a civil law office, it was filled with administrative and bureaucratic positions; the hidden work-horses of society. From what Haruno had said, nearly 300 full time employees worked alongside 40 to 50 lawyers and processed the various civil and business cases brought before them. They essentially ensured that justice and the law were functioning forces in Tokyo.

There was also a momo restaurant around the corner, and apparently it's been getting some rave reviews. [1]

Even with my position as a lead detective on many cases, I wasn't as familiar with the building as I should have been. And that was entirely because of Haruno's predecessor. The man was there since the moment I entered the police force and was a thorn in my side from that point onward. He was a nuisance, but a nuisance who sat above me in the hierarchy, so the nuisance became squared.

He would constantly question everything. Progress was never his objective. He worked for performance benchmarks and metrics. He had this outdated idea that age implied ability. He also personally intervened in my interrogations and delayed cases by weeks.

He also let one go.

I 'disliked' him, and resolved to never visit the prefecture's DA's office.

But with Yukinoshita Haruno taking over the reins of the operation, me simply disliking the DA was no longer a valid excuse to avoid going to that building. I thought I had gotten away with it when communication with Haruno had dropped to a flat zero. How naive I was.

'When it rains, it pours' is an apt description for this ongoing time of my existence. If Yukinoshita Yukino reappearing wasn't enough, I had another demoness to deal with now. The presence of her little sister seemed to act as the green light for Haruno to come barreling straight back into my life like a rocket-powered dragster. The unspoken restraining order I thought we had both mutually agreed to, be damned.

I wasn't unintelligent by any stretch, but Haruno was just that much smarter than me. While I was playing checkers, she was out there playing 4-dimensional chess. She would use official work orders to have me assigned to cases she was working on, forcing us to be in frequent contact. Haruno liberally used this as an excuse to come and visit HQ, dropping in and plunging me in paperwork. A byproduct of these slightly-less-than-illicit goings was that it ignited the rumor mill in the department. Exactly what I needed.

My new DA made my life a living hell. And this was all after her first stunt which had already crossed the line. I wanted nothing to do with her.

So when Haruno asked me to stop by her workplace to go over some evidence for a case she was helming, I quickly tried to rope in Shiba to do the dirty work for me. However, my plan was foiled by the Chief, who said that avoiding my 'friend' wasn't healthy, and he had me pack up and head out as was requested by my superior. Bollocks.

I arrived at a rather scenic area in twenty minutes via train. Shops and people filled my view. Just before me was the building in question, and I heaved a sigh of resignation before entering. The foyer was covered in green tiles that looked black in the shade and a brilliant emerald in the sunlight. Large windows were present to let in the summer rays. Formally dressed individuals bustled around and the ambient volume was loud and filled with numerous conversations about the goings on of the real work behind the scenes of Tokyo.

I walked up to the receptionist's desk. My movement attracted the attention of the woman behind the counter.

 _A librarian._ Was my initial thought when I looked at her. Her hair was tied into a sleek ponytail that revealed her forehead. She had a face with a button nose had a stern look to it, added to by the spectacles she wore. A white sleeveless blouse completed her outfit. She was rather pretty.

A charm that was spoiled when it morphed into suspicion as soon as she laid eyes on me.

"How may I help you?" Librarian-chan said, her voice having an underlying tone that reminded me of my teachers from middle school. It was negative, for sure.

"I'm, uh, here to see the district attorney." The severeness of her gaze distracted me, and I fumbled to find the words.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"... appointment?"

"Yes, an appointment. An arrangement to meet someone at a particular time or place." Librarian-chan condescendingly defined.

Was it my eyes? It was probably my eyes. "I know what an appointment is. And I don't have one. I was told to come."

"Then I'm sorry, sir." She placed a harsh emphasis on her final word, making me wince. She really didn't want someone who looks like a two-bit criminal in here apparently. "I cannot let you upstairs without an appointment."

"There has to be some sort of mistake. Yukinoshita Haruno told me to come at this time."

"Yukinoshita-san is already expecting someone now, unless you happen to be that detective in question."

"... do I really not look like one?" My mood plummeted as I sadly pulled out my license and badge to show to a dubious Librarian-chan. "I'm a detective from Tokyo Metro PD, I'm working on a case with the district attorney."

"Oh…" She trailed off, before her eyes widen as if she got whiplashed. "OHHHHHHHH…"

This can't be good. "... is something the matter?" I asked apprehensively.

Library-chan face became red like a beet and she tried looking everywhere but near me. "Y-yes! Everything is fine! … Yukinoshita-san had said that a detective from the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department would be stopping by today."

"O-O… kay?"

"Please don't stand so close."

"Excuse me?"

"I understand that you may be Yukinoshita-san's ex-boyfriend, but control yourself in this environment. Many people work here, so please refrain from making others uncomfortable with your intimacy. A-and she has warned me of your tendency to p-prey on s-single women. S-so, p-please don't stand so c-close."

THAT MINX!

"Okay, get whatever ideas you have in your mind, out of there! We have a purely professional relationship. Nothing more, nothing less."

My words seem to convince her somewhat, and I saw her exhale in relief. No doubt thinking that there was no way Yukinoshita Haruno would settle for someone like me. Which was exactly what I wanted her to think.

I needed to nip this in the bud before it festered into some monster of a problem and I would find myself the victim of a scheme invented by the legions of Haruno zealots that must exist in this building. I'll probably have a knife shoved so deeply into my chest, whoever could pull it out would be crowned King of Briton. [2]

"Yahallo! Hikigaya-kun it's so nice to see you again!"

My efforts to save my own life were torpedoed not two seconds later as Yukinoshita Haruno came bounding from some direction behind me and wrapped herself around my arm. I struggled to keep the blood from rushing to my face at the… sensations I'm feeling. Channel the words Marcus Aurelius, Hachiman, and do not let your mind indulge in sensory affections. [3]

Library-chan's mouth was wider than a Venus-flytrap's and just as stiff as she looked on at us in disbelief. As a matter of fact, so did everyone else in the lobby. I could feel my life expectancy shrink by half.

"Come, come!" Haruno pulled me away to the elevator and quickly whisked me away to her office before I could even shoot back a greeting… or cry for help. I momentarily met her aide, who gave me an apologetic smile and, to my dismay, left me to fend for myself.

I reigned in my emotions as Haruno gave me a smirk while we discussed the case of grand theft auto she had ensnared me into. An import car scheme where I had to trace VIN numbers internationally, with sellers stealing vintage collector cars such as Nissan Skyline GT-R R34s, Suzuki Cappuccinos, and Toyota AE86 Sprinter Truenos and selling them to American buyers without licenses and thus avoiding fees and taxes. They were also connected to an underground parts-market based around vehicles that were robbed from impound lots. The amount of RB26 engines that we had confiscated was enough to produce our own fleet of sports cars.

It was tedious, monotonous, and clearly made to get me annoyed. It was working.

Eventually, after some discussion we got the evidence organized and squared away. Haruno looked at me curiously.

"So…" She drawled.

Here we go.

"Yes?" I asked, glancing at her before returning my eyes back to my paper and pen.

"Merry Christmas!"

"It's the middle of July." I pointed out in a deadpan.

"Don't sweat the details." She brushed aside my straight-man response with grace, and for a second I thought I was the idiot who forgot the time of the year (silly me, of course it was the time to break out the mistletoes). "I already sent you a present!"

"..."

"... didn't I?" Don't pretend to be confused, you know exactly what you did!

"... what are you playing at?"

"Ara?" She blinked again, the impish smile disappeared as a calculating expression replaces it, elegant eyebrows descended her face. "I would have thought that you would appreciate the gift."

"Do gifts normally throw a man's life into chaos?" I accused.

"You don't sound too pleased…"

"I'm not."

"I was only trying to help out. You're such a sourpuss, I thought having a cute and familiar face would make you happy. Smile a bit more." That mock jubilance and concern irritated me. And I knew that she knew it was throwing me off my cool. It was working.

"I fail to see how often I flex my facial muscles upward to be any of your concern. Let's keep things completely professional."

"They are."

'They are' my ass. "This is way beyond professional, and you know it." I was unable to reign in my emotions and felt my face tense and my cheeks stiffen.

"Oho?" Haruno suddenly became highly interested in my face and gave me a cold smile. "So Hikigaya-kun can get mad afterall… or at least this Hikigaya-kun can."

I glared at her. I didn't like what she was doing, this pushing and prodding for a reaction. I wasn't some lab rodent, but I suddenly felt like a cornered rat. And cornered rats bite back. "Don't change the topic. We're talking about what you did, not me."

"Then why are you so angry?" Haruno looked genuinely confused and tilted her head. "Only good can come of this. You get a free lawyer of a quality I can vouch for and you get to reconnect with Yukino-chan."

"'Good'?"I repeated dubiously. "This?" I was about to grab a dictionary and offer it to her. Next to the definition of 'FUBAR' is probably a description of my everything. And it would be the antonym to 'good.'

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you angry because you're talking with people that know the old you?"

My eyes widened and my throat hitched. "I…"

"Or maybe because you can't run away… from all the comparisons?"

"What are you‒"

"Unless you're angry because of meeting her?"

What she was doing now was something I had done myself dozens of times. Dialogue designed to stab at your insecurities quickly and elicit a spontaneous reaction. She was giving me a probing question, hoping to see if she could take advantage of my self-destructive curiosity. It was working.

"No!" I said quickly, and louder than I wanted to. "It's not… that I don't want to… and I'm not angry… not really…"

Not anymore, I enjoyed talking with Yukinoshita. My words trailed off into silence, but that didn't last long.

"Then are you afraid?" Her violet eyes looked steel grey in the lighting of the room, and they were piercing.

"Afraid of Yukinoshita?"

"No… afraid that Yukino-chan might discover your deep dark past?"

"..."

"Are you afraid that she might condemn you, like the rest? Like your colleagues do? Oh, don't look so surprised. I have ears, you know. I wouldn't waste my time if I wasn't getting something out of it."

So those visits to HQ were strategic. How foolish of me, not knowing that this lady had mastered the 4 planes and was now engaged in 5-dimensional chess. She might prove string theory at this rate. [4]

"...," I said nothing, just gnashing my molars together uncomfortably. It didn't do me any good, of course. Communication wasn't always verbal. Sometimes the silences could be as‒ if not more‒ informative than the words spoken. To her, my every action probably said something. I was an open book, and the woman before me loved reading slowly.

"I wish you would have a bit more faith in my little sister. Besides, what you do or don't tell Yukino-chan is all up to you. I promise that I won't say a word."

Yukinoshita Haruno was many things, but a liar she was not.

"... how long has she been here for?"

"Hmm... about 5 months? She came back from law school in England and was getting certified to practice law here until a few weeks ago."

"She doing okay... with your family and all…?"

Haruno's face softened. "Everything is fine. You can rest assured that your hard work accomplished something. She's better off right now. We're better. All of us."

"Good... that's good." There were some things, it seemed, I didn't have to regret after all. I could hardly believe it.

Maybe you could have Christmas in July.

Δ▼Δ

The meal was spread out upon the table, and the participants for the feast were at their stations. The offerings for our stomachs were plentiful and delicious, and we would eat in earnest. My ability to cook is… sub-par for lack of a better (nicer) word, so the nights I was invited for dinner at the Tsurumi household was godsend for my health and taste buds.

There was only so much instant ramen and curry a man could consume before he decided that the conveniences of modern science were a conspiracy to deny humanity from experiencing the sensory pleasure that delicious food was capable of.

The sounds of clattering plates and utensils highlighted that eating was in fact a familial event. Speaking of my fellow eaters tonight…

"Earth to Hachiman!"

You might be wondering why this rowdy middle-aged woman who used to be my homeroom and Literature teacher in high school was currently in Tokyo. Nay, you may be asking yourself what she was doing sitting across from me in this particular house which was situated in Shibuya City, one of Tokyo's special wards. You see, my invisible friends and mental audience, this former teacher of mine had accomplished the impossible.

Hiratsuka Shizuka got married.

In what I can only describe as the work of divine providence, she had broken the spell of singleness cast upon her and had found some poor basta‒ I mean lucky man‒ who was willing to marry her. Such a brave soul happened to be our very own resident police chief, Tsurumi Kenji.

Imagine my shock when I traveled to Tokyo from Chiba after I returned from abroad, and saw a preening Shizuka waiting for me at the station. She proudly flashed her wedding ring and declared that God did indeed exist. [5] However, for some strange reason, Shizuka decided to keep her maiden name despite being absolutely giddy with her married life. Go figure.

"Yes?"

"We all started." She urged. "Go on, eat."

"..."

Dishes and plates get passed around, and I felt a shred of guilt when I notice that they made more food than usual.

"Sorry for bumming over all the time."

"Nonsense." Shizuka quickly rebuked my apology and gave me a warm smile. "I invited you. And besides, you're practically family now."

As she said, I was a frequent visitor to this single family home and took advantage of the services provided. Despite how much I loved being alone, it was nice having some company once in a while to let you know that the world was still turning.

The Tsurumi house had three members: Shizuka, the Chief, and their niece Rumi. Shizuka taught literature in a Tokyo high school, the one Rumi attended. Rumi's father was a Captain in the JSDF, so while he was on deployment, Rumi stayed with her uncle and aunt-in-law. She already thought of this place as her actual home and she also went to school here, so the transition was smooth.

Dinner was not a silent affair, as the Tsurumi family were never the type to be quiet over a meal. Conversation between the various members sprang up. Because of their schedules, they rarely met during the day, which meant that they could only catch up on what was going on in their personal lives at dinner time. The topic would quickly swap between school events and exams to current events and news. Naturally, the biggest talking point of the night was my own precarious legal situation.

The Chief succinctly summarized the case that Ouma Daichi's family had brought against me. Litigation had just begun, and the lawyers for both sides had their first discussion over the details just a few hours ago.

"I can't say that I'm not worried about this lawsuit. I'm afraid of what it might do to your mental health." Shizuka frowned.

"I've been taking my pills and I haven't had any episodes lately," I said confidently. "I've been keeping up with the training routine as well, so I think I'm as healthy as I can be right now."

"Don't worry about it, honey." The Chief reassured his wife. "He has the best lawyer possible, given to him from the Yukinoshitas themselves."

I nearly dropped my chopsticks. Oh no.

Chief, stop! Anymore, and you'll jeopardize everything! We can't give the emotional-terrorist any leverage!

Shizuka's ears perked at the familiar family name. "Who?"

"Their youngest daughter I believe, Yukinoshita Yukino."

Shizukas face transformed from shock into giddiness as she gave me a smug look. "Oh ho?"

I gagged. Dammit, Chief! Why!?

Cold sweat precipitates dover my back as I cowered underneath the dissecting gaze of Shizuka.

"Yukinoshita Yukino hmmmmmmm?"

Stop holding that syllable, you're a grown woman! Act like it!

"Aren't you a lucky man?" She teased. "Who knew you were born under such a good star?"

"Leave me alone." I grumbled and pass the plate of pickled ginger in the opposite direction, towards Rumi. Shizuka frowned at my childish antics. Hah! Petty revenge it may have been, but satisfying revenge it was nonetheless.

"What's the big deal with this 'Yukinoshita Yukino'?" Rumi asked, slowly pronouncing the tongue twister of a name as she carefully accepted the plate from me. Did Rumi forget Yukinoshita from the camp escapade an eternity ago?

I quickly glanced at Shizuka, hoping and praying that she would have the decency to keep my dignity intact. I sent her a pleading look with my eyes. The Chief observed our wordless negotiation with detachment, as if he was watching a tennis game on TV. Just an audience member, he had no desire to be involved. A smart man, in all honesty. My ex-teacher's smug grin became even more distorted as I saw an evil glint begin to shine in her eyes. There would be no mercy from her.

"Hold on!" I started, in vain hopes of intercepting her words. "Can we ta-"

I never finished my sentence as Shizuka loudly told the world my most sensitive secret from high school.

"You see Rumi, our Hachiman here used to have quite the crush on her in high school."

I cringed in my seat as a torrent of memories came up. I was such an idiot back then. Besides Yuigahama and Sensei, how did no one else notice? I would find myself staring at her mindlessly, attempting to memorize every aspect I could. I would stutter a bit whenever she directly addressed me. I couldn't think straight whenever she got close and I could smell her shampoo and perfume. The Service Club and its meetings were my own personal Tartarus, and I was the chained Tantalus.[6] I couldn't get close like I desperately wanted too, but at the same time was unable to free myself of the feelings I had.

And don't even get me started on that faux prom night. What what were we thinking?

All in all, it was a disaster befitting a completely SNAFU romantic-comedy set in high school. Thankfully, if I could feel embarrassed at my actions now, that probably meant I grew up a little and moved past that infatuation.

The Chief raised an eyebrow, but just returned to his food, either not surprised or not impressed (when you had a woman like Shizuka as your spouse, your standards tend to go awry). Rumi had a crestfallen face for some reason. She looked at me as if she lost her cellphone, with a mixture of hopelessness and disappointment. Her eyes evaded mine when she noticed my gaze.

I leveled my eyes at Shizuka and attempted to pin her with the strongest glare I had. Maybe I would suddenly develop superpowers and gain laser eyesight, hopefully vaporizing every atom of her existence instantly. Shizuka just gave me a cheeky smile, fully aware of the destruction she wrought, and relished in her handiwork.

This bitc‒

At that exact moment my phone began to ring, which quieted the table as three pairs of eyes fell on me. It wasn't that I was being rude by not silencing my phone before dinner. More so that they were surprised that I was actually getting a call at all. Me. Getting a call. From someone else.

Maybe Shizuka was right, and I was born under a lucky star. Lots of unexpected things were happening left and right as of late.

I fished the device out of my pocket, and my heart sunk when I saw who was calling me.

"Speak of the devil…" I whispered in defeat. I take that back. Definitely not a 'lucky' star. "Hello?"

"Hello, Hikigaya-kun?" The air around me was quieter than the depths of a catacomb, the sound of Yukinoshita's voice could be heard clearly by all occupants in the dining room despite my phone not being on speaker. Shizuka showed me a toothy smile that was full of malevolent energy.

"Y-yeah, it's me."

"Ah, ok. Good evening." She gave me a quick greeting over the sound of what seemed like rustling papers on her end. "Sorry to disturb you, but I wish to tell you something regarding the case."

"Gotcha, give me a sec."

I stood up and mustered as much outward zen as I could project as I excused myself from the table. The eyes of the Chief, Shizuka, and Rumi followed my every move. As I was about to close the secondary door to the backyard, I heard Shizuka loudly cat-call.

"Go get em, Casanova!"

Tch, the old wench. The gods may have given you a free pass, but I won't. I'll get you back for this, just wait!

"Did I call at at bad time?" Yukinoshita asked when I bring the phone back to my ear.

"No, not at all." I hurriedly assuaged her. "I was just finishing up dinner with a family friend. Actually, you might even know her."

"Oh? Who might that be?"

"Our former club advisor, Hiratsuka Tsurumi Shizuka-san."

"Hiratsuka-sensei?" Yukino repeats, before realizing that I had added another part in there as well. "Tsurumi?!"

"Yup."

"I-I wasn't aware that Hiratsuka-sensei had moved out of Chiba…"

"Yeah I wasn't either. Apparently she moved around the time she got married, hence 'Tsurumi'."

The sound of light giggling could be heard through the the phone. "I guess miracles do happen…"

Her levity elicited a chuckle out of me as well. It seemed we were both on the same wavelength regarding our favorite teacher and her romantic woes.

"That's good to know, I haven't seen Hiratsuka-sensei in forever. I'm glad she's doing well." The laughter in her voice was replaced with a more flat tone. "I'm afraid I'm calling about business tonight. Regarding the meeting I had with the Ouma family lawyer earlier today."

Sounded about right. Yukinoshita was never the type to drop someone a social call.

"Something happen?"

"Unfortunately." Began Yukinoshita was an exasperated breath. "The family refuses to compromise on a settlement out of court. They want to move onto a trial by jury."

"What?" I question, baffled by the turn of events. "Why, though? Isn't this an open and shut case?"

"It should be, but I am unsure of what their motives for escalation are." Yukinoshita paused, probably deliberating whether to say the next line or not. "I cannot confirm this information, but allegedly the son had taken out loans under the names' of his parents. The loans did not default with his death according to the terms he signed."

I could draw the conclusion myself: the parents were now responsible to pay Ouma Daichi's student loans.

"That does make sense…" I said as I remember the profile the Chief had be draw up. I don't know if I should be glad that I was correct or sad that I had foreseen the financial ruin of a family that was already grieving.

"They most likely want to go to court to wring out as much money as they can. I'm still not sure why they would risk such a thing, their position isn't exactly one that inspires confidence."

"I don't have that kind of money." I admitted freely. "I'm just a public servant, my salary is only slightly better than that of a normal police officer."

"Yes, I thought about that as well. I suspect that they want the police department, and by extension the state, to be the ones to foot the bill."

"This is a pain." I let out in frustration.

"I don't disagree with you, but it's something we have to work through. Your court appearance is in one week."

"I'll mark my calendars."

"Is that so? I'm sure you'll still manage to forget."

"Hey…."

There was light giggling on the other end. "Goodnight, Hikigaya-kun."

"Yeah. G'night, Yukinoshita."

 **Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**

References:

[1] Momo's are Tibetan dumplings, usually steamed. Being half-Nepalese myself, these pretty things are ubiquitous comfort food. This is actually based off the time I had to serve jury duty. The case was kind of stupid, a mother was suing her landlord over a refrigerator and somehow it had evolved into a case about Brazilian liposuction. Anyway, the security guard was telling us about some places to eat and a new dumpling house that opened up was his top recommendation.

[2] Reference to The Sword in The Stone, the method by which the next King of Briton would be chosen in the legend of King Arthur. Whoever could remove the sword from the stone was worthy to be King.

[3] Marcus Aurelius was an emperor of Rome from 161AD to 180AD. Considered one of 'the 5 Good Emperors,' Aurelius was a warlord that expanded the Roman borders and also wrote down his philosophy on stoicism in his book titled, "Meditations".

[4] String theory is a theoretical framework in physics that tries to marry quantum mechanics and classical physics. It addresses many issues, but the math to prove it shows that we need 11 (Thanks to RalphZiggy for pointing this out).

[5] The founder of nihilist philosophy, Friedrich Nietzsche famously said "God is dead!" And ever since, every student of philosophy and most of society misquotes this and takes it completely out of context. Thusly destroying the actual, and rather uplifting, meaning of his work. Poor Nietzsche.

[6] Tantalus was a figure in Greek mythology who was sent to Tartarus (Greek equivalent of hell) for eternal punishment. He was forced to stand beside a pool of water as well as beneath a fruit tree with low hanging branches. Whenever he would attempt to eat the fruit, the branches would lift up out of his reach. Whenever he tried to drink, the water would recede. Such was his torment.

 **Author's Note:**

 **This is my equivalent of the summer vacation arc from canon. Our protagonist has a week or so to c0me to grips with the changes of perception he's having in his life as well as those around him. I was particularly proud of the thematic threads I managed to tie together with Haruno. This will come back and matter in future chapters (Chapter 7 and 8).**

 **Also took this as an opportunity to introduce Hiratsuka-sensei into the mix, and look at that! She's married! Kenji is Rumi's uncle, and both he and his brother started off as a blank slate characters. Kenji was a plot device to act as Shizuka's significant other. However, like Clint Eastwood, I couldn't stop until I had their entire lives drafted out and I had started thinking of them as actual characters in canon.**

 **This chapter was intended to be more light-hearted, in preparation for the return to the blistering pace for the next three entries to Unmade. Prepare yourselves. Once again, you can interact with me directly on my SpaceBattles thread. Simply google Unmade SpaceBattles and it will take you there. All review questions or comments will be addressed there.**

 **-SouBU**  
 **(Editor: XioKenji)**  
 **(BetaReader: Lord of Admirals 412)**

 ** _PS: Can people please give me props for that string-theory joke? I still laugh to myself whenever I read it._**

 _Revision Log:  
_ _03/17/2020: Re-uploaded with overhaul of tenses and changes in word choice and sentence structure as well as major grammar fixes._


	6. Snakes and Ladders

**Chapter 06: "Snakes and Ladders"**

It was a peaceful morning. The skies were clear, the sun was out, and a gentle breeze flitted through the air. It was a perfect time to go out for a drive and I was trying to fill up my car with some fuel for such a task.

"OH MY GOD!" Screamed a juvenile voice throughout the gas station. "IS THAT AN ASTON MARTIN!?"

Aaaaanndd there goes the tranquility I was appreciating.

I turned my head to see a middle school boy in the midst of puberty staring out of the window of an average looking sedan. His eyes were bulging and his pupils traced every panel line and wheel arch of my wine red vehicle. What I could only describe as the purest of romances appeared in his eyes.

"ITSUKI, CHECK IT OUT!"

"WOAH!" Another childish voice from inside the car shared a similar reaction. "IT'S A VANTAGE!"

"HEY MISTER! YOU GONNA TAKE THAT OUT TO WANGAN?" [1]

"YEAH! IT WOULD TOTALLY BEAT THE DEVIL-Z!"

"NO WAY! THE DEVIL-Z IS UNBEATABLE! ONLY THE BLACKBIRD CAN MATCH IT!"

"SHUT UP, ITSUKI! YOU COULDN'T TELL A CARRERA FROM A BEETLE!"

"NO, YOU SHUT UP TOUMA! YOU SAID YOUR DAD DRIVES AN STI, BUT IT WAS JUST A NORMAL WRX!"

"POOPY HEAD!"

"FATTY!"

"BOTH OF YOU!" Roared an enraged older female voice slamming the boot of the car shut. "ITSUKI, YOU AND YOUR COUSIN NEED TO BE QUIET OR YOU'LL BOTH BE SLURPING TOFU MILK SHAKES FOR THE NEXT WEEK!"

That seemed to be the trick, and the two children quickly silenced themselves as if they were meerkats with a cheetah on the prowl.

I took that as an opportunity for a tactical retreat, and quickly ran inside my car. The plush leather interior became a quiet haven when I shut the door and only the muffled sound of the outside world penetrated through. I had an epiphany and faced my passenger who sat grumpily with a black seat-belt wrapped around her.

"You were right, Rumi. It does attract too much attention."

"I'm going to be late for school. Hurry it up." She responded despondently.

I rolled my eyes and pressed my foot down on the clutch before pressing the ignition button. The V8-engine beneath my car's front bonnet burbled to life and I see the revs climb on my tachometer until it stables around 1100 RPM. I slip the shifter into gear before swapping the clutch for the gas with the opposite foot. A soft grind could be heard as the clutch-plate makes contact with the engine's flywheel and power is sent to my back wheels. I let my foot off the brake and the car started off smoothly. I drove off of the gas station lot and enter a clear road.

We drove for a few minutes at a moderate speed, the suburban Shibuya whizzing by and giving way to the concrete towers and highways of Tokyo city proper. I make my wait onto the main thoroughfare before asking Rumi for directions.

"Is this the exit?"

"Yeah‒ no! The next one, sorry."

"It's fine."

My car blazed through traffic as I signaled my lane changes to enter an exit ramp that placed me back onto residential streets with the roads flanked on either side by private houses. I winced at the loud pops and bangs from my car's exhaust as I downshifted to decelerate enough so I could come to a stop at a red light. The people around here were not going to be happy with my presence, most likely.

Rumi had woken up late today and nearly had a heart-attack, apparently having accidentally forgot to set her alarm last night (she was reading manga). Unfortunately for her, Chief Tsurumi was already at work and Shizuka had taken her car earlier than usual due to a meeting. Rumi rushed over to my apartment complex with barely 20 minutes until the start of the school day and asked for a favor. And by 'asking' I mean poking a hole in my kidneys, screaming at me to wake up, and dragging me out of bed.

Cute kid.

"Can you drop me off here?"

"Huh?" I looked at Rumi in confusion. "Isn't the school a few blocks up?"

"Yes. Which is exactly why I want you to let me off here." Her voice took a similar steeliness that Shizuka's did. The two were rubbing off on one another. Great.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Alright then..."

I pulled the car over to the curb in front of a small white house gently, and shift into neutral before engaging the parking brake. I patiently waited for Rumi to leave the car, but she doesn't. Instead, I caught her looking at me with sharp eyes. "Hey, Hachiman."

"Mmm?" I glanced at her.

"Are you…" She looked uneasy as she interlacec her fingers nervously "... going to go see that 'Yukinoshita Yukino'?"

"'That'?" I repeat. "You don't remember her?"

Rumi blinked at me owlishly. "Should I?"

I'm astounded. "Yes. From that time at camp back in Chiba. I think you should have been in grade school back then. We introduced ourselves to you at the same time, I'm pretty sure. Shizuka was there too."

"I see." Rumi's face darkened and I feel a sweat drop on my temple at the unease within the cabin of my car. "So it is the same person… are you going to see her today?"

"No..." I'm so off-put by this entire exchange I ended up trailing the last syllable. "We only need to see each other tomorrow for the trial. I'll be busy with work most of today."

"Oh!" Rumi's face brightened slightly. "So the only times you'll meet her are for lawyer stuff? That's it?"

"That's it. Why?"

Rumi shook her head with a small smile. "No reason."

I had no clue what improved her mood, but was thankful for it anyway. Rumi quickly removed the seat-belt and opened the car door gently, aware that there was a slight incline to the way the door hinges swiveled. I pressed the trunk release button and watch from the rear-view mirror as she grabbed her book bag from the boot. The teenager came up to the side of the car once more with that same smile. "Thanks, Hachiman."

I can't help but grin slightly. "No prob‒"

"Rumi!?" A shocked voice exclaimed down the sidewalk, causing the finches in the trees to fly away in fright.

"Haruko!?" The blood emptied from Rumi's face as she twisted her head towards the speaker. She turned back to me, agitated. "You have to go! NOW!"

"Wait, are those the friends you always talk about?" I tried to stick my head out the window to get a look.

"Hachiman!" She hissed, murder in her eyes. "GO! NOW!"

"Okay, okay…" I acquiesced and make a show of moving the shifter, which caused her to take a step back from the car as I started my mechanical chariot. Right before I rolled up the window I heard an absurdly loud shout.

"Who's that guy!? And why is his car so fancy!? OMG, IS HE YOUR BOYFRIEND!?"

"Shuddup, Haruko!" Shrieked Rumi and soon she was sprinting down the block with hands covering her ears, away from another girl in the same uniform, The other girl chased after her, laughing and shouting out apologies in a less-than honest tone filled with mirth.

Huh, so she did have fun at school then. That's a relief.

Δ▼Δ

The office had been a quiet and relaxing place for me with Shiba having been assigned to another department temporarily. I could actually make it through my entire podcast without a single interruption and was able to eat my meals (and go to the bathroom) in peace. Alas, this transfer so conveniently ended today.

And here he came now.

I watched the man who used to be my Vice President on the student council come running in through the door with tears streaming down his cheeks. "SENPAIIIIII!?"

Before I could even react, he had me engrossed in a bear hug and began to sob pathetically. "Senpaiiii! I heard the news. It can't be true right? You can't be sued right?! As your crime-stopping-partner, I'll be there for you!"

"Let me go, Shiba. Everyone's watching."

"Senpai, you must stay strong!"

"Piss off! You're annoying!" I gave him a solid right hook into his solar plexus.

I managed to extract myself from his grasp and grilled him. Apparently Secretary-chan informed him of the lawsuit, and he had taken it into his own hands to confirm it. As expected of the highest scorer in detective school, I could respect his process.

Just do it in a less embarrassing and shameful manner next time. I hope you reflect on this, Shiba. For the sake of avoiding bodily pain in the future.

"We'll be in room 12DF," Shiba said, rubbing his stomach.

"Meet back here in 5, then?"

"Sure thing, Senpai."

I gathered my things while Shiba submited the paperwork to the Chief. Hiura had contacted us beforehand to let us know that he had reserved an interrogation room today, and sent over the basic file of our detainee.

Today's 'guest' was 18 year old Fujiwara Eiichiro. A boy who graduated from high school and opted to skip out on higher education. He lived with his parents and had worked many part-time jobs. The standout example was one where he was a part-timer on a fishing boat based in Tokyo Bay. One of the places where Ouma Daichi had been known to frequent. Witness testimony and security camera footage confirmed their association.

Now normally, we couldn't detain someone for just being loosely associated with a criminal. People are innocent before being proven guilty, after all. But Fujiwara had actually ran away from police orders on two separate occasions, which was now grounds for getting him arrested.

Funny how things worked out.

"When we cuffed him we found these after a pat down." Hiura gestured to a table filled with items. "A knife, a wad of paper yen, and a cellphone."

The knife was definitely a red flag, but the amount of physical money was suspicious for entirely different reasons.

I pressed the power button on the cellphone and am disappointed to be met with a lock screen and some text prompting for a password.

"Because of privacy laws, we can't ask for back-doors from the cell-phone manufacturers." Hiura explained defeatedly after seeing me frown. "We could wait until we find a hacker, but we can't keep the kid in police custody for that long without justification."

"A shame we didn't find any drugs on him." I mentioned offhandedly.

"That would be the silver bullet, but where's the fun in straightforward investigations?" Joked Hiura as he sat on a stool in front of the one-way mirror. "We know for a fact that he and Ouma knew each other. Witnesses say that they would see the two handing things to one another. I also looked into the fishing boat he worked on for those few months, since it would be the most obvious method to smuggle drugs in under the cover of a legitimate business.

"The boat he was on was run by Japanese companies, but helmed by Chinese sailors and laborers from other countries. We don't have enough to warrant an investigation into the boat for suspected drug trafficking, and the kid won't talk."

"To you." Shiba added with emphasis as he looked at Fujiwara through the window.

"To me." Agreed Hiura, nodding sagely.

I scratched my chin as I processed the information at hand. What were we trying to get out of Fujiwara Eiichirou? Why did we want this intel? What did his situation have to do with it? What type of info did I need or should I look for? What might he know? What tools did I have to work with?

Before long, my course of action became clear.

"I think I have a plan," I said as I left the room. "Give me half an hour, I'll see what I can do."

Δ▼Δ

Fujiwara was your typical delinquent in terms of appearance. He wore ragged jeans, black sneakers, and a white t-shirt with a blue tennis jacket on top. His hair was cropped short, with a bit of it highlighted blonde near the front. His eyes snap to mine as soon as I enter the interrogation room. I can see defiance in them, almost like a wild animal.

"Like I told the other guy!" Fujiwara sneered. "I ain't tellin' you nothin'!"

I ignored his outburst, instead followed my usual routine of taking off my jacket and disarming on to a table far away from him. I took a chair and spun it around, so the back was facing him as I sat down with my chest against the headrest.

"I'm Detective Hikigaya Hachiman." I introduced myself cordially.

"I don't care, shithead." He practically spat at me.

Hoooh, a feisty one. Haven't had someone like this in ages.

"Anyway, I'm your interrogator for this afternoon. Do you know why you were arrested?"

His lips curled back over his teeth as he gave me an expression of pure fury. "Arrested?! That asshole cop shows up at my house and wants to take me in, and then when I say 'no', I'm arrested? What type of bullshit is this!?"

Ah, he's an idiot. Fantastic, this is going to require far less effort than I expected. I laid my chin down on the headrest of the chair and tilted my head, giving him an inquisitive stare.

"You see..." I gave him a polite smile, to show him his outburst did little to rattle my cage. After that one year spent abroad, I doubt anything could intimidate me. Things tend to lose their edge when you actually experienced fearing for your life. "... from what I can tell, Detective Hiura had given you the explicit order to STOP and respond to his request for questioning… Slamming the front door in his face and then running out the back window isn't exactly saying 'no.' Is it? That's an actual crime that we can arrest you for."

My rebuttal flustered the teenager, whose caught off guard by my breakdown. I just needed to establish from the get go that he has everything to lose here, and very little to gain by being belligerent. Time to use the age old office promotion technique: offer two choices, one to accept and one to reject.

"Let me level with you." I leaned forward and make direct eye contact with him. "You running away from the cops doesn't really mean much, but it can lead to an actual investigation if a judge thinks its suspicious enough. Me? I just think you got spooked, which is completely understandable."

I scooched my chair closer to the desk he was sitting behind. By reducing the space between us while staying within his range of vision, I could artificially build intimacy and trust. A little trick I learned from Shizuka, when she was explaining some counseling methods she was taught in school.

"I'm trying to bust a drug ring here in Tokyo. Stuff's been on the streets in bigger quantities than ever before. Crimes starting to go up in the city and we coppers just want to give an office worker the peace of mind that they can walk home safely. But I need your help, all you have to do is answer some questions. If you don't like it, you can ignore it. Sound fair?"

I played the empathy card, bait upon a trap I laid that would lead down the rabbit hole should he choose to take it. And of course he would. As far as he was concerned he doesn't have any other viable option.

"I… I… uh…" I could see the gears spinning in his head.

He's considering whether he can believe my words or not. Which is the normal reaction I'd expect. Rather than think about the things he can do, I focused his attention on what I wanted from him. I planted the subconscious idea that I was the sole keyholder to the doors, but only one led to freedom.

Heh, playing by my rules and whims when he doesn't even know it. Welcome, mongrel, to my Reality Marble: 'Unlimited Ploy Works.' [2]

"I guess… I can answer a few…" Fujiwara reluctantly agreed.

This was so easy, it physically hurt.

"Well, let's start with introductions. I already said I was Detective Hikigaya Hachiman. What's your name?" I reset the conversation, erasing any unease he may have felt after his previous questioning. It would also make him temporarily forget what he had said beforehand, which was the far more useful consequence for this technique.

"Fujiwara." He looked away from me, still clearly trying to put up resistance of some sort. Doesn't he know that we probably already know his full name, address, phone number, and most recent debit card purchase? It was a R18+ magazine by the way. "How did you know Ouma Daichi?"

"I should have known it was about that guy," Fujiwara said in frustration as he scratches his head. "I didn't KNOW know him. We just... talked a few times."

"Would you say you were… acquaintances?" I offer a possible word that he was looking for.

"Yeah. Sounds about right?"

Okay kid, answering a question with a question is the pinnacle of uselessness. I quelled my irritation, telling myself that patience was key. He was already strung along, I just had to keep that rope out.

"Were you aware of Ouma Daichi's involvement with drugs?"

The kid opened his mouth to answer before his brain caught up, understanding the implied severity of the question. I can see his mind churning for an answer.

"Kinda… but I was never really sure." His voice got quieter as he spoke, the latter half almost a whisper.

"I see." I reached over and grabbed my folder, taking out some witness testimonials that were prepared by Hiura. I placed it before the teenager, letting his eyes trace over the typed words. "I have some testimonies from witnesses who say that they saw you having hand-offs with Daichi that included money. What do you have to say to that?"

"I didn't sell him anything! Honest!" His voice had a hint of panic to it. "We just talked once in a while. I don't even have his cell phone number. That's just a place lots of people hang out."

And he's right. It was a known drug den, frequented by junkies all over town.

"'Hanging out,' huh?" I rhetorically repeated. "You still have friends like that? I heard you didn't go to college, went straight into the workforce."

"H-how did you-"

"Kid." I interrupted him. "We're the police, come on."

My admonishment had him looking sheepish. Did he honestly forget where he was?

"College isn't for everyone." He mutterd, flexing his forearms. "And it definitely wasn't for me. I went straight to work." It was obviously a sore topic for him, one that probably many people asked without understanding his perspective.

An insecurity. A chink in the armor. And I'm not enough of a good guy to let it slip.

"I can agree with you on that, college wasn't for me at first either." My chuckle has him looking up at me in surprise. I notice the tension in his arms disappearing. "I get where you're coming from, Fujiwara. I joined the JSDF straight out of high school."

That seemed to do the trick, and he slowly opened up to me. The next ten minutes or so had me learning more about his family life and economic status.

His parents didn't mind that he didn't go to college, since he worked and contributed his share towards the family income. His mother owned a small convenience store near the wharf. His father was also a fisherman, and was the one who lined up Fujiwara's first job on that fishing boat.

Fujiwara was currently a delivery truck driver, a job that was easy and paid better than being on a boat. One of his coworkers had suggested it to him, seeing as how Fujiwara had a Tokyo driver's license. The boy loved to swim, and was part of the swim team in his high school. His best friend, Hideaki Arata, was also on the team and the two had a lot of fun. They still communicate occasionally.

"Did you ever have a pet?" I asked, seeing how comfortable Fujiwara was becoming.

"Yeah, I did. A cat about yea big." He gestured with his hands the size of the feline. "We called him 'Ebisu'."

Ebisu? Like, after the deity of fishing and luck? That's actually kinda cute.

"I had a cat too, some fat furball named Kamakura. It seemed like you have a pretty decent life then, how good are you with technology?"

"Decent, I guess." He shrugged. "I'm no tech wizard, I just use my smartphone like everyone else. Listen to music, browse the web a bit, play games."

"You know, I'm curious. What email service do you use? Just want to know what the youth are communicating with now a days. Maybe I can keep up with my younger sister for once." I tried to keep the atmosphere light and as far away from accusatory as possible.

"I use Vodafone, it came with my cell phone plan."

"I see." Okay, I think I got all the information I needed for my plan to work. My strategy is in place, I just needed to set up the board to corner Fujiwara. "Is this email how you got into the drug business?"

"Didn't I say I wasn't involved in that?" He frowned unsurely at the sudden shift in tone.

"Is it because you live near the coast with your folks? You have easy access to the docks, and easy access to foreign shipments. The first one to each shipment, if you time it right."

Fujiwara's shoulders tensed up out of nervousness. He gives away his tell: rubbing his index finger along the top of his thumb. I could tell by how polished his thumb nail was compared the rest of his fingers. "I haven't been to the docks in a bit…"

"Oh yeah?" I folded my arms and leaned back. "You started work as a part-time delivery driver just last year. I'm gonna take a stab at it and say that one of the crewmembers at your fishing boat job was also your 'in' to the drug trade. Maybe it's the one who lead you to your latest job?"

Fujiwara's hands clenched, his knuckles turned white and I saw his eyes buckle. "I-I don't feel like answering… this one."

Smart move, but it was already too late. He only delayed being put into checkmate

"Look, I can just let you go," I said, offering a false olive branch. "Then all I have to do is drag every single member of that crew in one-by-one and interrogate them until I get what I want."

Fujiwara immediately began to shudder and sweat, realizing he just compromised some secret no one was supposed to know about. He wasn't even trying to hide his fear now.

"O-okay!" He shouted nervously. "I-i-it was me! I was slinging drugs. I got them myself off the streets and I sold em to Ouma. Nothing else!"

"... I see…," I said carefully.

I placed a hand on the desk and begin tapping my fingers against the surface rhythmically. From the corner of my eye, Fujiwara stared at the point of impact of my fingers against the top fixedly. His Adam's apple bobbed with every sound my digits made. He was on the verge of cracking, I just needed to push a little more. But how?

Δ▼Δ

"He's lying through his teeth." I declared as I come bursting into the adjacent room inhabited by Shiba and Hiura. "He never sold drugs."

I explained that Fujiwara Eiichirou wass aware of something going down at the docks, something illegal. But he's afraid of whatever it is, to the point that he would rather sacrifice himself and go to prison over a false crime than risk being out-and-about with this information being leaked.

"Kid's traumatized." I pointed to my throat. "His neck starts going crazy at sudden staccato noises. Evidence of physical abuse if I've ever seen it. I doubt it's childhood, I'm thinking he was beaten up by a person or a group."

"So organized crime." Shiba concluded. "They have a system for finding holes and sealing them before law enforcement can get to them. Fujiwara fears retribution."

"It could be anything, though." Hiura added. "With the docks involved we might be searching for a gang, the Yakuza, even a new crime family."

Shiba nodded. "If this is all that we have on him, we have to let him go. We don't have enough as is to even keep him in custody long enough to start an investigation."

"Who says we don't?" Shiba and Hiura turned towards me with questioning looks. A chilling grin adorned my face as I asked for Fujiwara's phone. I wake the device and check the notification bar, the icon in the top right indicating it used Vodafone.

"Shiba open up your laptop and go to the Vodafone email login website."

"Sure Senpai, but why?"

"I'm 100% sure the smoking gun is on his phone."

My partner looked at me as if I've finally gone off the deep end. "But we don't have access to his phone."

"Don't need it. We just need to access his email."

Fujiwara admitted to being technologically illiterate: he was a casual user. I doubt he was even aware of the modern feature on smartphones and email services where they would auto-sync messages across platforms. Which would mean that text messages and emails would be stored to the same email address. Even if he deleted the emails from his phone, they would still be on his email account.

"So we just need to get into his email. We might not know the password, but we can use the password reset wizard." I concluded.

"We don't have access to his phone, so won't that mean we have to answer security questions to change the password?" Asked Hiura.

I gave him a look, surprised he hadn't figured it out yet. "Didn't I just get him to do that?"

Several seconds before Hiura and Shiba's eyes widened as the realization dawned on them.

"W-wait!" Hiura questioned, rubbing his eyes. "S-so all those weird questions…?"

"I just asked Fujiwara some common security questions under the guise of small talk." I nodded to myself. "Worked pretty well, if I do say so myself."

Shiba's laptop opens up the page and we begin the process. As expected, the security questions were the usual suspects: What was the name of your first pet? What was your mother's maiden name? What was the name of your best friend?

It only took Shiba a few minutes to retrieve Fujiwara's mother's full name, and within moments we have a new temporary password that gave us access to his email. Jack pot.

"... this is... something else..." Hiura looked on in wonderment as we sifted through Fujiwara's inbox. "That was genius."

My suspicions were substantiated when we came across a series of messages that had Fujiwara and the receiver agree to locations and times to meet, as well as containing negotiations over prices for something they referred to in vague terms. Shiba was able to confirm that the number that was saved belonged to Ouma Daichi. The one asking for price, however, was Fujiwara. It turns out that Daichi was in fact the one selling.

Well, well, well...

There were also some interesting messages about Fujiwara's delivery job. Orders coming in and telling him when and where to get them, and how to drive to the destination. It was oddly meticulous, which makes the lack of a provided map all the more strange. And then he was told to delete these messages after memorizing them.

If that isn't a bad omen, then nothing is.

"Get the DA in here ASAP." I ordered Shiba, a bit of an edge to my voice. We were at the endgame, but it was one built on a fragile foundation. I needed my opponent to surrender completely, rather than allow me to defeat him. I would need some help, the kind only Yukinoshita Haruno could provide.

It seems I've been making a whole lot of deals with various devils lately.

Δ▼Δ

I strode back into the interrogation room and cut to the chase, slamming my hands down on the table to his fright and pinning him with a glare.

"You lied to me." My voice emitted flat as I accused Fujiwara with a pointed finger.

"W-w-what?" He stuttered in nervousness and claimed ignorance. To his growing panic, I recited back to him the messages he had with Ouma Daichi.

I leaned in and whispered to Fujiwara. "You were just found guilty of lying to law enforcement. I can slap you with obstruction of justice and have you thrown in prison for a while. Not only that, you actually did know Ouma. This isn't looking too good for you. You can get charged with being an accomplice. Imagine getting more years in jail for being an accessory to a crime. Half your life, gone. Just like that."

"I-I-I‒"

"I'll make it simple for you." I broke off his response, intent on maintaining my position of power. I was the one speaking, he was listening. Our relationship had to devolve to such binaries. "You've been directly connected with possible drug trafficking. Along with your previous mistakes, I'll have no trouble getting a warrant to investigate the deliveries at the docks. And when 'they' try and understand how this happened, 'they're' going to figure that it was you who lead us there. Directly or not."

I don't know who the hell the 'they' I'm referring to are, but by Fujiwara's reaction, 'they' certainly did exist. The blood drained from Fujiwara's face and he became as pale as a ghost. Sweat formed on his forehead and the lump on his throat began bobbing like an ocean buoy in the Pacific.

"I see that you understand what this means." I nodded to affirm Fujiwara's fears. "You're screwed no matter what. So how about we negotiate?"

I looked him in the eyes and spoke confidently, hoping my body language would show the honesty of my words. After all, I wasn't lying… I was just withholding some of the truth.

"You're young, you the rest of your life to look forward too... and you're going to throw it away for someone else? Take on the responsibility for a crime you never committed? I'm willing to hash out a deal, you give me information and I give you protection for you and your family from 'them'." My voice was drier than the Sahara Desert.

The mention of his parents made him flinch, and I knew it was over. After a few tense minutes of internal deliberation, Fujiwara accepted and said all that he knows.

I had him in check, and he surrendered.

Ouma Daichi was the one who was selling drugs to Fujiwara, and Fujiwara was introduced to this literature student-turned-dealer through his delivery job. His foreman had asked if Fujiwara needed something to 'relax.' Fujiwara had no idea where Daichi got his drugs from.

As a transporter, he was well liked by his coworkers because of his work ethic and the fact that he knew his way around Tokyo. The actual job was quite easy, he just had to drive a truck to certain locations on certain days and let a crew offload the supplies when he reached the destination.

At the docks a boat comes and unloads its cargo. Normal dock workers just load it into his truck. The only weird part was that didn't ask him for identification or any sort of checks with an itinerary when they let him off. The boat comes in at different times on alternating days: Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. It never came on the weekends.

I asked him if he was ever attacked at his job. Hesitantly, Fujiwara described how he had accidentally had taken a look inside the truck once, and was beaten black and blue by the delivery crew. They said it was a warning to never do it again. He wasn't able to make out anything clearly, but it was unusually warm.

Δ▼Δ

"Impressive work as always." Haruno was the one to greet me when I return, in a black suit with a silken blue shirt beneath. She still had those suit trousers that housed her long legs. This new style of hers was actually kind of disconcerting with how appropriate it was.

"You heard the confession right?" I asked urgently. "I need you to get him and his family enrolled into the witness protection program as fast as possible."

Haruno blinked. "What makes you think I can do that?"

"Excuse me?" I was not expecting this answer. After all that work, I was going to fail because I overestimated our own capabilities? "Are you going to tell me you can't? You, Yukinoshita Haruno?"

"Just joking, just joking." Haruno brushed off my worries like a parent does to a child. "I'll have my office draft up a plea bargain immediately and contact the governmental office. He doesn't have an attorney so we need to get one for him for the paperwork."

My blood pressure dropped and I nodded to her before facing Hiura and Shiba.

"We have a lead, and we need to act quickly. They're going to know when Fujiwara doesn't come to pick up shipments. We can have the kid give us access to his phone so we can keep this charade going."

Shiba ran off to alert the Chief and get the Maritime Police out to keep watch on Tokyo Harbor and start planning around it. Hiura took our findings to Records and to his own department to inform them about the case's progression. We had a live case on our hands now.

Which left me alone with Haruno in the discussion room.

"Thanks." I blurted out. "... and sorry in advance."

Haruno looked at me with a confused face.

"Things are going to get messy in Tokyo soon." I explained apologetically. "Your office might be flooded with complaints."

"Hmm, I can handle that, but…" Her face turned somber as she began to think deeply about something. "The way you talked to this… Fujiwara. You threw in bits of your own past to spin a facade of empathy. Interesting tactic."

"I was just trying to lower the kid's guard so I could get a better grasp of his personality." I shrugged, answering off the cuff.

"That's not what I meant." She elaborated, and scrunched her delicate brows and gave me a hard look. "You… made yourself more empathetic to him. He thought he only had two solutions. One of which you painted as also being the best choice. He didn't know that you were leading him on. Quite… villainous."

I felt the muscles in my face spasm and freeze stiff at that final adjective.

I knew.

What I did was despicable and I could fully admit that.

I took advantage of the naivety of a teenager who was in distress. Fujiwara didn't know that he could have asked for a lawyer. He didn't know that if he had stayed silent we would have to let him go. I made him believe he only had the choices I offered, and I forced him to choose the option that best suited me. I used his insecurities and fears against him, to further burrow into his mind and break it apart from the inside out.

"Is that right? Didn't think about it that way until you mentioned it." I forced my body to relax, to be loose.

But my mouth tasted something foul as I said those words, like I just gargled with battery acid and then followed it up with an inhaler full of sulfur. I emotionally manipulated a young man to give me his secrets in the most evil and vile way possible: I pretended to become his savior. He placed his utmost trust in me, and I betrayed it. He didn't notice that I goaded him into lying, so I could have him trapped for obstruction of justice.

It was like I threw him into the pit of vipers and then offered him a rope. I didn't actually save him, I just ruined his life and gave him a bit of conciliation. He was my sacrifice, he just didn't realize it. And he never might. But I will, and I was perfectly aware of my actions.

"Besides… you can't save everyone."

"So you pick and choose who you help?" Haruno asked with steely eyes.

"As long as something good will come out of it… I'll compromise."

I've done this countless times. I was disingenuous to the core.

Did I like it? Did I hate it?

Does it matter?

My response caused Haruno to give a strange cold chuckle, a sound that only someone who recognizes the ludicrousness of it all can make. "Well, regardless you put on quite a show with that act of yours."

Acts?

I've dealt with enough acts throughout my life to tell you that I probably have seen them all. Haruno used to put an exquisite mask back when we first met, before her family situation changed her. I saw those false caricatures my classmates had worn on the daily. I saw the veneer that society had slept under. All of those fakes. A plastic world.

The greatest act I ever saw was someone pretending to be an ally just the day before. Then you unexpectedly woke up in the middle of the night and found yourself staring into a knife aimed for your heart.

All smiles and sugar, then suddenly dripping with so much malice it was practically physical.

Nietzsche once said: "Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you."

I detest liars. I detest fake people. I detest acts. Somewhere along the way, probably in that jungle I spent a year in, I became all of those things.

It's a convenient thing, being great at all of the things that I hated.

 **Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**

References:

[1] Wangan-sen is a scenic coastal highway that passes through Chiba and Tokyo. It is famous for its drag races that used to occur at night. The legendary "Midnight Club" was based here and entry into the club was exclusive. To get in you had to have a car fast enough to outrun the police. Some surgeon that was part of the club spent 1 million USD to modify a Porsche 911 (930) Turbo to some ridiculous extents (I think it was pushing 800 or more brake-horsepower at some point?). This car was known as the "Black Bird."

[2] Reference to Kinoko Nasu's "Fate" franchise. A Reality Marble is a forbidden spell that has the caster place their own mental landscape into the real world, rewriting reality for as long as they can power the bounded field of the spell. They basically make their own world according to their whims. Yes, I know I used Gilgamesh's iconic line, it's a joke.

 **Author's Note:**

 **The next interrogation scene, as anticipated by some of you. Snakes and Ladders is a board-game I remember playing a lot as a child. It's a simple game about luck, where you roll the dice and see if you manage to avoid the snakes and get to a ladder, or if you had landed right on a serpent and eaten. The origin of this game is from a morality lesson: snakes are vices and ladders are virtues. I went for the double meaning myself.**

 **This chapter explores the changes in Hachiman's morality, by way of how he approaches the interrogation. Hachiman is willing to compromise and do evil to gain the results he wants. It's less of a change of morality, and more of a logical extremity of previous behavior.**

 **This chapter was inspired by the song "Robots can't Drink" by e-dubble. Unfortunately the artist has passed away, but his music lives on. I'll be doing a breakdown of how the lyrics of the song applies to the story on my SpaceBattles thread.**

 **I promise we will see more of Rumi.**

 **-SouBU**  
 **(Editor: XioKenji)**  
 **(BetaReader: Lord of Admirals 412)**

 _Revision Log:  
_ _03/17/2020: Re-uploaded with overhaul of tenses and changes in word choice and sentence structure as well as major grammar fixes._


	7. Freak of the Fall

**Chapter 07: "Those That Fell"**

I was no stranger to the inside of a courtroom. I was a detective after all (at the very least, in name). I actually saw the room, with its furniture set up in an adversarial manner, as a movie theater of sorts.

I was the director, and the evidence I gathered would be used to make a 'film' about the crime. My job was to recreate the context and various facets about the wrongdoing. The lawyers were the critics who would dissect and analyze my work, trying to piece together some sort of meaning or draw a conclusion from it. All according to their agenda or beliefs of which boiled down to a simple distinction: innocent or guilty?

The jury was the public who came to view my 'film.' The silent majority who would watch and listen. They would read the 'reviews' from the 'critics' and deliberate their collective opinion. Their decision would decide how my 'film' would be remembered in history.

I may be familiar with the courtroom, but I was not at all familiar with the defendant's seat. Who could have thought the space around me could be so cold and uninviting simply by sitting in this chair? I felt like I was on some strange and hostile planet that mankind never explored.

Was the Judge always that tall? I almost mistook her for a deity looking down at my puny mortal self from above.

And wait just a minute, was the plaintiff's desk really that close to our own? The animosity from the prosecution team was palpable and radiated off them in waves.

Was the jury's box usually that big? And why were they so intimidating? Jurors were supposed to be chosen from my peers to represent my social strata, but none of them look like antisocial pessimistic-but-realistic loners at all!

My whining thoughts were broken by Yukinoshita sitting down in the seat to my right, shielding me from the unkind projections from across the aisle. She was clad in her familiar suit and seemed to have pulled out all the stops in looking like an icicle that had managed to figure out a modern white-collar wardrobe. Yukinoshita was downright imposing, with her ice-cold beauty and stare that could freeze a rhinoceros. I was glad to have her on my side.

"Well, I'm happy to see that you managed to make yourself presentable." She remarked dryly, not bothering to spare me a glance.

"Don't get used to it." I quipped back. In all honesty, I got lucky. I don't have any casual clothing, just sets of shirts and pants along with some jackets to wear to the office and investigations. I only ever went outside for work and shopping, so there was never a need to spice it up.

The sound of the doors of the courtroom opening behind us caused us to turn around. A middle-aged couple came down the aisle to the prosecution desk. They looked average in a normal looking suit and dress, however their faces seemed devoid of any emotion. Almost like robots. The mental remark made me adjust my seating position warily.

"That must be the Ouma family." Yukinoshita observed aloud, her eyes trailing their every move with feline intensity.

The wife had red puffy eyes, with dark circles underneath them. As if she hadn't slept for days, and instead cried her soul away.

"It's an emotional play." Yukinoshita whispered to me, as if reading my thoughts. "They're trying to make them seem more sympathetic to the jury."

"Yeah? Pretty powerful. Almost worked on me." I jokingly whispered back. It didn't seem to go over well with Yukinoshita, who turned her displeased and petrifying gaze upon me. I withered away like a weed in the dead of winter.

Sheesh, tough crowd.

The Judge called the court into session. After she read aloud the persons involved in the case and the charges levied, the lawyers began their opening statements.

Yukinoshita had explained to me briefly how the process would go. The plaintiff's attorney would begin the opening statements, since they were bringing the case against me and thus bore the burden of proof.

Expectedly, the prosecution didn't pull any punches when they spoke about me. They painted me as some deranged officer who killed a troubled young-man in cold blood. That I had forgone trying to adequately talk to the Ouma's son and opted for fatal violence. They claimed I had taken drastic action and took the law into my own hands and condemned Ouma Daichi to death. It was unjust, and skirted around common decency.

Years of being ostracised in my youth and school days as well as my first job had given me some rather thick skin. Despite that, their words still disgruntled me. They talked about me as if I was a mad dog with rabies.

Yukinoshita went up next, and her absolutely unbelievable words blew away my discomfort and replaced it with…

Internal laughter.

She stood tall and proud, not a trace of fear on her face. "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman is an upstanding citizen and local hero who saved lives with his work as an enforcer of the law."

It took all the self-control I had to not burst out laughing then and there. It felt like she was recounting the summary of a character from a Super Sentai show.

My attorney continued. "As an officer, he followed protocol, and even risked his own life to attempt to bring the conflict to a non-violent conclusion. Detective Hikigaya disarmed the criminal and offered him the chance to surrender, but instead the criminal escalated the conflict. My client is not at fault for the poor and dangerous decisions of another.

"He has shown exemplary bravery and decisiveness, and should not be punished for the poor decision making of a criminal when lives of innocents were at stake."

Her final words words were the final nail in the coffin of my restraint. I couldn't stop stop the quiet snort, which did not go unnoticed by my lawyer, whose lips bent into a frown.

I wish I had this recorded. If I had shown the footage to my high school self, he would probably keel over with a stroke if he heard these words coming out of Yukinoshita's mouth, unable to comprehend what black magic it took for her to even consider complimenting, no PRAISING, him.

It must be a cold day in hell indeed.

With that over, the actual meat of the trial began: presentation of evidence.

The prosecution poured over security footage, trying to explain to the jury where the errors in my ways were. Truthfully, it was quite flimsy, even layman like me could see that, and Yukinoshita didn't seem to be too worried about how things were progressing.

When the first witness was called was when I began to space out, the time blurred as it passed across my eyes. I had expected Haruno to be among them, but Yukinoshita had said that during witness selections Haruno was removed due to the fact that they were sisters. Yukinoshita didn't want to have any shadow of doubt over my innocence.

"I would like to call Hikigaya Hachiman, to come to the stand and give testimony."

I blinked rapidly, the haze over my eyes disappearing as I was brought back into reality. "Huh? What?"

I looked over at Yukinoshita, who has her lips pursed into a slim line in concentration. Her eyes met mine, and I silently beckoned her, asking what I should do. She responded curtly. "It's best if you go."

I nodded and slide my chair back, the sound of its feet sliding and slipping against the floor echoed throughout the courtroom. I stuffed my hands in my pockets out of habit and walked over to the witness stand. I was sworn under oath and the prosecution began questioning.

I finally got a good look at their lawyer. He seemed like a relatively handsome man in his early 30's. Neatly combed hair with smart looking frameless glasses. His suit was pinstriped, and the pattern distracted me far more than it should have.

"Can you confirm your name and current occupation please?"

"I'm Hikigaya Hachiman… I work as a detective at the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department."

He had his hands behind his back now and takes two steps towards me. My eyes flickered to his footwear; brown dress shoes that were polished into mirrors. "And how long have you been there for, Detective Hikigaya?"

"A little over two-years."

"I see. And what is your primary role over at the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department?"

"... primarily I interrogate suspects or accessories to crimes."

A hand came from his back to adjust the bridge of his glasses. "So would you say you were not trained with the intention of primarily handling armed suspects?"

I shifted in my seat, which suddenly felt like a stone throne that was intended to ensure its user could never find a comfortable position. "Uhh… I wouldn't say that. Every officer and detective is given training and taught protocol on how to deal with criminals in a variety of circumstances. Oh yeah, it's part of the mandatory courses in detective school as well."

There, I shut down that angle. Pleased with myself, I leaned back slightly. The Prosecutor was trying to imply to the jury that because I'm a detective, that I had no knowledge in how to deal with armed criminals. That my shooting of Ouma Daichi was due to a lack of expertise. Nice try, bud.

"Can you recount what happened in that bookstore the day Ouma Daichi was killed?"

I didn't like the way he worded that, but ignored the gnawing feeling as I recounted what had occured so many weeks ago. It took about ten minutes, and no one other than me spoke. It was eerie. When my testimony ended, the Prosecutor looks at me and asks a strange thing.

"Detective Hikigaya, were you always a law-enforcement officer?"

"... no..." The question caught me off-guard and made my response come out hesitantly as my mind raced to figure out his plan. What I did before working as an officer? Why would he want to know that…?

… oh.

OH.

For a split second, a small grin broke his facade before settling back into that professional poker face, but I caught it. And it made my heart beat painfully at where this was most likely going.

"And what exactly… was your last profession?"

Yukinoshita, ever reliable, detected the shift in tone of the Prosecutor 's voice and stood up quickly.

"Objection, your honor!" She exclaimed to the Judge. "The question has no direct relevance to the case at hand."

The Judge brought a hand to her chin and considered Yukinoshita's words before turning to the Prosecutor and asking him to explain the reasoning behind his testimonial question.

"To get a clearer picture of Detective Hikigaya's competency, your Honor."

The answer seemed to satisfy the Judge. "Overruled."

All eyes of the courtroom settled on me, and I audibly swallowed. My head throbbed as adrenaline coursed through me. It was a curious thing, watching you slowly incriminate yourself and having no choice but to do so.

"I was a… Senior Private… in the JSDF Ground Forces. For two years." I ground out, my discomfort evident. His plan was clear in my head, and I hated the path he was leading me down.

"The JSDF? Interesting." The Prosecutor paced in front of the stand, he didn't look me in the eyes when he asked his next question. "So you are former military?"

"Yes."

"You seem quite young, how long were you there for?"

"...for two years after I got out of highschool."

"And were you ever deployed?"

"I was only deployed once. During the start of the Sri Lankan Civil War." I was surprised by the calmness in my voice.

"So why leave?" He asked quickly, startling me. "Why leave the JSDF?"

Yukinoshita came to my rescue. "Objection, your honor! There is once again, no relevancy."

She was overruled once more when the Judge was placated by the Prosecutor s explanation: to paint a picture of how competent I was by exploring my past experiences.

"I did not leave the JSDF." I answered slowly.

"Were you removed from the JSDF?" The Prosecutor was suddenly within two meters of my face, I could see the whites of his calculating eyes.

"Objection, your honor," Yukinoshita said again, her eyes taking a murderous glint. "Relevancy. The prosecution is veering off course from their intention to prove competency."

"Overruled."

Yukinoshita's face slackened in shock at the immediate response from the Judge. She turned stoic once more before taking her seat.

"The JSDF… dismissed me from service." I looked him dead in the eyes, trying to figure out how he would trap me. It was useless of course, because I knew exactly where he was taking this. I was the lamb being sent to the slaughter.

"And how exactly are soldiers dismissed? Detective Hikigaya?" I saw that one coming.

"Either by a bill of health or by… a court martial."

He clapped his hands before turning to the jury.

"Detective Hikigaya, can you please explain to the ladies and gentlemen of the jury what exactly a court martial is?"

My fists clenched, grasping at the fabric of my pants between my fingers. "They're trials brought against soldiers, held by the military's own hierarchy and systems."

"And why are court-martials given?"

"Objection!" Yukinoshita barked, the sound of her chair scraping across the wooden floor causing me to flinch. "Your honor, the prosecution is asking a leading question!"

The Judge reclined her seat briefly as she mulled over Yukinoshita's objection. A few tense moments filled the room. Yukinoshita's eyes blazed and I silently prayed that it would be upheld.

"Overruled."

Yukinoshita's face cracked for a second, and I saw a flash of irritation in her eyes. It might be invisible to the casual viewer, but there was a simmering anger in her body now. I've seen that look thousands of times in the past, and I was on the receiving end of her wrath equally as often.

"You may answer the question, Detective Hikigaya." The Judge encouraged.

I took a shaky breath. "Court martials are given when soldiers break protocol or commit crimes."

With those words, a seed was planted in all who were listening, and the Prosecutor knew it. A sleazy smile tugged at the edge of his mouth as he allowed Yukinoshita to question me next. She only asked if I was honorably discharged or not, to which I responded that I was. It did little to deter the pleased aura over the plaintiff's table.

The Prosecutor returned to ask. "And what was the reason behind your honorable discharge?"

"I was declared mentally unfit to be a soldier."

"So you weren't dismissed from the military because of a court martial?"

"No."

"Would you say it wholly unrelated?"

"... no."

"So does this mean that you were court martialed?"

"... yes…"

The Prosecutor clears his throat. "And what charge was brought against you, at this court martial?"

A brief silence lulled the room. From the corner of my eye, I could see the anticipation for my response even visible on the faces of the jury. Like those mad crowds standing before the executioner's stage, eager to see the next victim.

"Objection, your honor. Leading question." Yukinoshita did her due diligence, but one without the forcefulness of earlier. I knew Yukinoshita to be hyper intelligent and observant to an extraordinary degree, and we both knew that….

"Overruled."

… the Judge wasn't going to be on her side for this.

I took a breath in as I struggle to calm myself. I attempted to speak twice, but both times I was interrupted by my own mind.

 _The sound of a grown man weeping, begging to be let go._

 _My face set in stone._

 _I asked the same thing repeatedly. Over and over, like a broken record player._

"I… I… I was charged with violating the UN Declaration of Human Rights... Article 5…" My voice broke part way in.

"... and what exactly does it mean to violate 'UN Declaration of Human Rights Article 5'?" He was suddenly closer than ever before, his voice seemingly next to my ears despite being an arms length in front of me.

I exhaled unevenly through my nose. There was no avoiding it anymore, and I almost forgot this too.

"It means I was charged with torturing enemy soldiers and non-combatants alike during a time of war."

Silence enveloped the courtroom, like someone pressed the mute button on some celestial remote.

"I have no further questions…," The Prosecutor said as he walked back.

My eyes followed him, and they met with Yukinoshita's. Her normally calm and noble facade was shattered; mouth slightly ajar and eyes widened, caught between disbelief and utter shock. My hands balled into trembling fists and I broke my gaze to look at my feet.

I didn't want to see anyone make that kind of face, especially because of the things I did.

The Judge looked uncomfortable as she glanced at both the prosecution and defense, unsure how to proceed. The jury members traded stares between one another with nervous flicks of their eyes. The juror nearest me was a woman who began to fidget and move away from me.

"Your Honor," said Yukinoshita in a flat voice. "I would like to appeal for a continuance. Perhaps have the court adjourned until a later date so that we may go over new information and potentially acquire additional witnesses."

"... and how does the prosecution feel about this?" The Judge asked.

"We have no problems with such a motion, your Honor." The Prosecutor replied in a satisfied tone.

With that, the Judge declared the end to this court session. We all rise and bow as her Honor took her leave. Yukinoshita stayed a step behind me when we left the courtroom. The crowd separated as we went by, as if I was Moses splitting the Red Sea.

I'm sure this was all in my imagination. There was no way the people outside the courtroom could have heard my testimony. I was just being paranoid, but I was fine with this. I'm a master of being alone, going unseen in the crowd with no one paying me any mind. And I wanted it that way, lest my stench attract coffin flies and maggots.

Surprisingly enough, Yukinoshita does not avoid me. I fully expected her to be disgusted and never associate with the likes of me ever again, she's smart enough to know the implications of what I said. But here she was, right beside me, her long hair occasionally brushing against my arm. She took long and confident strides matching my own half-assed ones, although she looked like she was deep in thought.

"I'll drive you home." She tilted her head up at me suddenly.

"It's fin‒"

"I'll drive you home."

Deep down I could tell I had no choice in this matter. Probably never did.

Δ▼Δ

The car Yukinoshita drove really suited her.

The Mercedes E Class: a high end luxury car that screams refinement. The pearl white paint gave it a cold and professional look. It was an intimidating white lion to other cars on the road. The large tri-star Mercedes badge on the front letting all else know that they were beneath this car simply by its very existence. Not only was it a Mercedes, it was an AMG at that: an AMG E43. A thoroughbred among thoroughbreds.

Its 3-liter 6 cylinder engine with twin-turbos made quick work of our Japanese highways. Eventually my apartment complex came into view and Yukinoshita gently pulled up to the curb.

"Is it true?"

In the midst of unbuckling my seat belt, my hand stopped.

"... is what true?" I'm playing dumb, not sure if I wanted to have this conversation.

"What you said on the witness stand?"

"Oh."

"You tor‒ broke Article 5?"

"... yeah I did. I can pull up the documents from the regiment office if you want. I think Colonel Hidetaka still runs it."

"Colonel Hidetaka…" Yukinoshita repeated slowly. "Well, regardless, I think this would explain why they had wanted to have the case pushed to a trial. They thought they had evidence strong enough to win."

"I'm sorry, I probably should have told you about this earlier."

I lied. I would have never told her.

"Don't be. It's not your fault. No one could have foreseen this."

Was she lying? Was she placating me, just because she was my lawyer?

On that note, the car became silent. I took that as my cue to leave the car. I thanked her and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

"Hikigaya-kun." Yukinoshita called out to me, and I turned to face her. The window was pulled down, and I could see her face… which had a smile on it? I swear that's a smile.

I must be seeing things.

"The court case isn't lost," she said, "I won't give up on you that easily."

Huh?

What?

The window rolled up and she drove away, leaving a confused Hikigaya Hachiman behind.

Give up on me? Not the court case?

What?

Δ▼Δ

Yukinoshita called me a few days later, letting me know that the court was adjourned for another two weeks. So I returned back to work as normal, and of course rumors have begun to spread around the office.

"Ex-military? At his age?"

"Explains why he's so damn weird. They say that war changes people."

"Some say he was court martialed?"

"Really? Why?"

"No one knows, rumor is that he went crazy and they shipped him home."

"Can't be? They let him on the police force. They gave him a gun license too."

"I don't know, man…"

I honestly didn't expect to deal with gossiping teenagers at work. But there was a silver lining to it.

"I don't buy it. Hikigaya? He can barely talk to someone face to face, and you think he's some psychopath murderer? Yeah right." I overheard Secretary-chan say to a coworker. The snub was also a nice touch, almost thought you were being nice there.

"That can't be the entire story. Senpai isn't like that. But I know that he likes keeping things to himself, so I'll wait until he's ready to tell me," Shiba had said somberly.

Ok bucko, that wording is irresponsible. I might think we're friends or something.

Dealing with all of this made the workday quickly pass and completely tired me out. When I got home, I fell asleep immediately as my back touched my bed. I just wanted to fall asleep and let everything melt away.

My subconscious, as it always has, decided differently.

Δ▼Δ

 _An overturned truck that had been speeding down the road was knocked aside by a mortar shell. It violently rolled over several times before landing on its roof. Within seconds it burst into flames. From inside I could hear screams begging for help._

 _I tried to get close, my squad yelling at me to come back. They said it was too dangerous, but I didn't stop. The door handle I clasped was burning hot, but I grit through the pain and tried to force the door open. Twisting, shoving, and pushing on the mechanism._

 _No dice._

 _"No!" I yelled, leaning back and using my boot in an attempt to break the window. The reinforced glass didn't even crack at my kicks. "Break dammit!"_

 _My yells of frustration overlapped with the screams of the victims inside the overturned car, now an oven that was cooking them alive. The flames flared, and I suddenly felt arms wrap around me and begin pulling me away. I tried to fight them._

 _"I'm close! I can save them! I can!"_

 _"Let it go, Sarge!"_

 _"No, no! I can save them!" I begged. "Please, I need to… save…"_

 _If I can't save them, then how can I justify all the horrible things I did?_

 _The car exploded into a brilliant ball of flames and light._

 _The image of that sight would permanently burn itself into my retinas. Something I would relive whenever I closed my eyes for years to come, and would most likely continue to see until my dying breath. The bright sparks fall to the ground and dissipated like dying stars. And with it, any sense of redemption I could have achieved._

 _I don't know who said it, but one of my squadmates whispered to me._

 _"Come on Sarge, snap out of it! We can't save everyone. Sarge, stop it! We can't save em all."_

Δ▼Δ

When I opened my eyes, I was faced with black spots all over my vision that slowly faded away.

It was 6:55AM.

Rumi was nowhere to be seen in the apartment, which I found to be strange.

That's right. It was Tuesday, wasn't it? Her classes started an hour earlier today.

I cleaned up and slowly walked through the house, grabbing myself a donut I had kept in the fridge two nights before. I turned on the coffee maker and sat down on the couch to catch the news as the drink brewed. There was a debate going on and the two speakers seemed to be really getting into it.

I chewed slowly, my molars moving in cyclic crushing impacts; the cold confectionery had the consistency of an igneous rock.

 _"With the declining birthrate, our economy is in danger! The previous generation will retire soon, who will fill those positions? We must open up immigration if we wish for Japan to survive!"_

What do I do today? I don't have work, Chief forced me to use my paid-time-off hours before HR came down on his head. End of the month stuff was always crazy.

 _"Opening up immigration would be a disaster. What if the immigrants don't conform to our culture? The crime rate is already increasing throughout the country, do you wish to add more social instability? How will we ensure that we only accept those who are skilled? Isn't it more reasonable to assume they will saturate the unskilled job market? Think about the poor and the less fortunate who cry for the opportunity for work to make a living, and how they will watch as migrants come and take their jobs. Do you have no compassion?"_

I could go to the shooting range at HQ. Or the gym. Actually, should I go for a run? Haven't done that in a while.

 _"You talk about suffering and compassion? Are you going to ignore the thousands of refugees that line our coasts, who risked their lives and endured many hardships just so they could keep their right to live? What about them? If they can be an asset to Japan, then we should consider all of our options, we are running out of time, and being picky will only serve to exacerbate our ability to weather the storm! As always, you are ignoring the issue at hand: Japan can no longer support the isolationist lifestyle we have grown accustomed to. What use is there in placing our people first when our country will fall before they do?"_

I could get some headway into that Bertrand Russell book I bought… on second thought I'm not in the mood for long-winded philosophical rambling. I should probably catch up on some paperwork...

Never mind, I felt like I want to move about. Run along the river and stop thinking for a while. Sounded amazing right now.

 _"Japan is for the Japanese! We cannot afford to think about others when we cannot take care of oursel‒"_

This debate was irritating me. Time to switch the channel. I was greeted by a blue and green map of Tokyo and surrounding prefectures. A pretty woman with a lot of makeup spoke with an upbeat voice.

 _"A cold front will be approaching tonight, and due to the heatwave we have experienced the past few days, that front will be running directly into a warm front. Expect to see heavy showers and lightning over the Tokyo, Chiba, and Saitama area. Don't forget your umbrellas!"_

Forget my umbrella, I did.

I took my gun instead.

 **Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**

 **Author's Note:**

 **This might be a controversial chapter, and I was very nervous about posting it. How would the fanbase react to such an extreme Hachiman? But my editors made the argument that maintaining the integrity of my vision for this narrative was paramount.**

 **So here it is: a pivotal moment that will affect Hachiman and his relationships, even rekindle old ones. Some may argue that what I have attributed to Hachiman is out of character. For those that feel this way, I ask you to reserve opinions until the end of Arc 1.**

 **The courtroom layout in the story is American as opposed to Japanese. Call it cultural bias, but I think the American set up is a lot more tense and makes it much easier to tell a compelling story.**

 **-SouBU  
** **(Editor: XioKenji)**  
 **(BetaReader: Lord of Admirals 412)  
**

 _Revision Log:  
_ _03/17/2020: Re-uploaded with overhaul of tenses and changes in word choice and sentence structure as well as major grammar fixes._


	8. Cirque Pendant L'orage

**Chapter 08: "Cirque Pendant L'orage"**

It was 1400 hours on a Wednesday, but it looked as if it was the dead of night.

As the forecast had predicted, a giant monsoon hit Japan, covering the heavens above Tokyo with a blanket of thick dark clouds that blocked out the sun. The pitch black sky was only occasionally broken by the errant bolt of lightning that streaked across, illuminating the ground briefly before being followed up by deafening thunder. And today of all days, was when the Chief had called us for an urgent mission.

Kids, being a defender of justice was tough work.

The information that Fujiwara Eiichiro had provided before he went into hiding was put to use the very next morning. Urgent word from the 3rd Regional Coast Guard from Yokohama, saying they had intercepted the ship described by Fujiwara before it had entered Tokyo Bay. The Chief came into our department office and told us to suit up with counter-terrorism equipment, considering the situation we were heading into.

Shiba and the Chief had tried to stop me from going, citing that I already worked way too many hours this week and I was basically dead on my feet. Of course, it was nothing that chugging three cans of MAX Coffee in quick succession couldn't fix. The Chief shook his head at my actions as he cleared us for Type II gear.

"Why didn't we get Type III armor?" Asked Shiba as he straps on his bulletproof vest.

"Brass probably doesn't think we'll get shot by rifles." I answered back carelessly. "That, and they can't afford the T3 for us lowly detectives."

"Oh." His face wasn't one of a man who wore apparel that could potentially save his life.

We were driven to the pier where we rendezvoused with the Coast Guard's elite: the Maritime Special Response Team. Japan found a need to develop specialized teams to better ensure the integrity of our waters with the alarming increase in activity from authorized sailors as well as less-than-savory actors. Chief said that the MSRT's Captain we were going to be working with was former Special Forces Group from the JSDF, so we were in good hands. We were loaded up into one of three RHIB's, and our trio of inflatable boats made their way onto the turbulent waters of Tokyo Bay.

I had one knee on the floor of the boat, while a hand supported my body by grabbing onto a strap. The boat bucked and crested over the waves that crashed over us. Occasionally the boat would skip across the surface, and my stomach would do a tiny flip whenever we were airborne, making me grip my strap even tighter. Ocean spray was all around, and I could taste the salt when the freezing mist hit my face. I was absolutely soaked.

"You seem pretty used to this!" Yelled out the MSRT Captain.

"Legacy of a misspent youth!" I shouted back over the sound of breaking waves and thunder.

We neared the cargo ship, and even from this distance, I was awed by its size. It absolutely dwarfed us, being hundreds of meters high and who knows how long. I could barely wrap my head around the scale. Two tugboats branded with the insignia of the 3rd Regional Coast Guard were at either end of this colossus. Despite their diminutive size they had enough horsepower to stop the much larger cargo ship from moving in any direction. I was informed that the crew of the captured vessel was told to gather in the bridge and prepare to be boarded.

As we climbed onto the deck of the boat, 14 beams of light erupted from our party; courtesy of the underslung flashlights on the MP5A5s of the MRST members in our midst. My lips twitched uncomfortably as I remembered an informant acquaintance of mine who managed to get one and tried selling it off to me.

Gazing up I saw giant cranes that were were hoisted high in the air. Their chains swayed in the storm and welcoming our sudden arrival with unsettling jingles. The rain poured down even harder this far out into sea, and I was having trouble keeping my eyes open. The surface of the ship was slick with water, and reflected the amber beams of the sodium flood lights hung around us. I could still see the rusted red steel of the deck below my feet through the glare.

Oxidation must be a huge issue on all ships, they're constantly in contact with water. I know I'm worried: when I got back home I was going to have to strip my pistol down in order to wipe it clean and regrease the internals. Easily a two hour affair, and one where I would inevitably lose a screw and spend another hour trying to find it.

"Detectives!" called out a voice over the din. Shiba and I are approached by a MSRT operative who greeted us with a raise of his hand as he walked over to us quickly. "Captain of the ship says that all crew and guards are on the bridge, you're good to see him now."

"Thank you!" Shiba said loudly. Even standing near, I could barely understand what he said.

We were escorted into the bridge castle and my eyes pass over black spray painted letters on the side of a wall: CS201. Cargo Ship 201, just like Fujiwara had said.

We cross-referenced the code with the international database of cargo ships and found that the vessel was built at the Hudong-Zhonghua Shipbuilding drydock in China nearly half a century prior. It was retrofitted four years ago to adhere to the changes in international security regulations for ships. With the instability of the SEA region, piracy had also gone up significantly in the surrounding waters of the Indian Ocean, South China Sea, Celebes Sea, Philippine Sea, and the North Pacific Ocean.

News reports went out daily about crews that were being ransomed while the cargo was stolen and disappeared on the black market. Incidents with pirates using weapons bought from warring factions to attack and sink vessels were also frighteningly common.

Boats that did business in this region were required by a coalition of Japan, Korea, and China to have a security detail (be it state or PMC/mercenary); state-of-the-art electronics and communication; and fire resistant foam coatings over all exposed steel areas on internal areas. These were called the JKC standard. While this did help mitigate and deter the problem, the loss of business had hurt economies all over the world.

Japan was hit particularly hard. As an island country that was low on naturally occurring resources, it was heavily dependent on imported goods such as gasoline, raw iron, and certain foodstuffs.

We eventually arrived at the Captain's nest, where we met a grizzly old Asian man. "Good afternoon. Welcome aboard the Huaguangjiao Two." [1] The Captain greeted us when we entered the cabin. His voice had a light Chinese accent.

Shiba and I shared glances and I subtly nodded my head at my partner.

Shiba stepped forward and offered a hand. "Thank you. Your Japanese is impeccable, Captain."

The older man took the hand in stride and gives a hearty shake. "I practiced. While war is bad for people, is good for business. Unfortunately, my Tagalog not as good as I want."

I raised an eyebrow, and I could tell Shiba had a similar reaction from the way his neck twitched.

"Is that so? You have my sympathies, Captain." Shiba answered back neutrally. "Let's try to get you on your way as quickly as possible. We were told that there may be some violations in trade agreements aboard this vessel so we just wanted to give the cargo a once over to make sure that it's all under regulation."

"Can I ask why, Officer?" The Captain scratched his beard as he looked at us in confusion. "Could not have this waited until we reached shore."

"You can ask why, but according to revised Japanese maritime trade laws, I am not obligated to answer those questions, nor am I required to ask for permission to conduct a search." Shiba spoke with a measured tone while verbally cornering the experienced sailor, making it clear that we were not here to nicely request things with various 'please' and 'thank-you's. These were orders.

I mean, we brought guys with guns. Was it not obvious?

"The mandated security detail is topside?" Shiba asked.

"They are, they should be in the room right to ours. We had them all collected as soon as we were contacted by your police."

"I see, so there should be no one below the deck, in the secondary holding?"

"Not to my knowledge. All crew and contractors are on deck as you asked."

"I see."

Shiba spent a few more minutes questioning the Captain. Nothing new was revealed. The only interesting tidbits being that the ship had seemingly made it at the various ports in the SEA without too much trouble.

"We know what to look for, it's probably best if we split up and search." I spoke to Shiba and the MSRT Captain after we huddled aside. "Shiba, you stay here with two or three guys and look through the manifest and licenses, buy us some time and see if you can get anything else out of him."

"I can make two squads out of my men, we have the numbers." The Captain said in a low tone. "Where do you think you'll be going, Detective?"

I ponder a moment before answering. "I'll go below deck."

"You're with me then."

Δ▼Δ

 _ **[Shiba Suzaku POV]**_

Ever since I could remember, I had a photographic memory. I could recall everything and anything my eyes had seen, down to the most inconsequential or mundane feature. When I was younger, my parents bought a children's book from America, called 'Cam Jansen' so I could practice English. The protagonist was a girl named Cam who also had photographic memory like me. Cam used that ability of hers to solve mysteries surrounding her friends and family. I thought that was cool as a kid, the way she wielded her unique memory almost like a superpower. Which wass probably why I became a detective.

I'm not that good a detective yet, though.

In school, I always used to get 100's on exams because I could memorize all the details. No matter how specific the question, I would always get it right. However, my essay grades were horrible, my teachers said that I was too detail oriented. I wasn't synthesizing. I wasn't taking the information and making something new out of it.

But Senpai was different. Senpai could always see the big picture at all times.

Always.

Which is why Senpai was 'Senpai.' I had asked to be assigned as his partner because I knew I was best suited to giving him the details. And with those details, he could build that bigger picture.

I sifted through the shipping manifest the Captain of the cargo ship had generously provided for me. It was a thick document, written in English. Columns with ID numbers of various containers and where and when they were collected and where they were to be sent. This class of cargo ship could hold up to 300 steel containers. Each page had lines upon lines of documentation of the shipping cargo. It would be disorientating for the normal person, but my mind just soaked it like a sponge.

Something caught my eye. I flipped between two locations that were nearly ten pages apart. Turnig to face the Captain, I asked, "Captain, you said all of the security detail was above?"

"I did."

"And are they mercenary or employees from your company?"

"Mercenary. The company lets us choose the contractor and reimburses us afterwards. It satisfies the JKS standards.

"Thank you."

I closed the manifest and excuse myself to walk towards my armed escorts from the Maritime Police. I lean into my radio that was strapped to my shoulder and spoke into it after I pressed the button to transmit.

"Senpai, we have a mockingbird on our hands."

 _The guy I talked to has been lying._

"... context?" Senpai's monotone voice responded back through static.

 _What was the lie?_

"Double dipping. Bad manners." I cryptically answered..

 _There was a duplicate. Intel cannot be trusted._

"Are we still having a party then?"

 _Is there a problem I should expect?_

"You might have some guests. The Pac-Man Cadre kind."

 _You might engage enemies. They're mercenaries._

"... lovely. I love my job."

 _Fuck. Fuck this job._

Δ▼Δ

 _ **[Hikigaya Hachiman POV]**_

We had just gotten below deck when Shiba radioed me.

"Captain, we might have some pressing issues." I alerted the MSRT Captain who held his MP5A5 with both hands and moved in the middle of our formation. The diminutive submachine gun was perfectly sized to be wielded within the tight tunnels of a ship, giving me a measure of comfort. I was all the way at the end of the tail, so I had to speak up a bit, and my voice echoed throughout the narrow steel corridors.

"How soon?"

"Now."

He twisted his head to me and throws a questioning look with a raised eyebrow. I wish I was joking too, pal. He shoots his head before barking out orders. "Stay on alert! Check those corners! Assume we have bad guys!"

"Left clear!"

"Le-right clear!"

A nervous voice spoke out the last line, having noticeably responded much later than his comrade who checked the opposite corner.

Our squad moved down the narrow corridors, lights from our guns illuminating dark areas allowing us to continue systematically checking the nooks and crannies. Our goal was to get to the cargo hold and communicate with Shiba from there. From what else I could get from my partner, there were about 300 steel containers. We had our work cut out for us tonight.

Our party came to a halt as we come to a shadowed corridor that bisected into opposing hallways.

"Oi, Yatori!" Barked out the Captain. "I heard you got engaged."

"Quite right, sir." A tired voice answered back. The Captain must really like this Yatori guy…

"You must be feeling lucky then. Left or right?"

"... the answer is always 'right,' sir."

"Good man."

… is this protocol? Yatori better have horseshoes shoved up his ass.

Like clockwork, the entire squad stuck to the left side of the wall in single file, staggering how far we leaned out so every member had a clear line of sight. I followed instinctively, my training from the JSDF for urban combat kicking in at the familiar motions from disciplined personnel who knew what they're doing. Our two point men made their checks for the rest of us.

"Right clear"

"Ri-left clear!"

The Captain nodded his head and beckoned us forward by pointing two fingers straight ahead with a crossed over thumb. The squad efficiently funneled through the split and quickly moves to the right passageway. I walked forward as the last man and turned the corner to go right, my eyes no longer looking in any other direction. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

And I'm suddenly seeing stars as something hit the back of my head with terrible force. My vision went black for a second and I yelped in pain and shock. My body wanted to curl to avoid the source of the pain, but something forced me upright. My throat felt restricted, as if it was being held by a hairy snake. Something cold toucheed my skull through my hair.

When my vision returned I realize that I was in the clutches of a man at gunpoint. The arm that was gripping my H&K P30L was detained awkwardly to ensure I couldn't shoot my captor, the barrel of the my pistol being forced to point upward. Startled murmurs from the squad I had just been following reverberate around the ingress.

"Don't move, or I'll shoot!" English, but a heavily accented one. I couldn't pinpoint the origin.

Despite my throbbing brain, I couldn't help but find the situation ironic. My, how the tables have turned.

"Hold your fire!" Yelled the Captain with experienced ease, his gun was still trailed unshakingly on the man holding me in a lock. The men around him are still tensed, including the one near me. His knees were trembling and I could see that his eyes were wide through his visor. If I wanted to get out of this, I couldn't rely on this man.

My eyes flickered upwards, I couldn't see my captor's head but I noticed the foam covered ceiling. My brain sparked to life and came up with a plan on the spot. Luckily for me, I had a veteran with me that I could trust. I made eye contact with the Captain, and moved my mouth to spell out a word.

 _SHOOT!_

Momentarily he seemed stunned, but just as fast as it showed on his face, it disappeared. He winked at me.

How brazen. I liked it.

I looked at the visor of the trembling officer to my right. I could see the reflection of my captor and I in the polarized plexiglass. I subtly adjusted my gun holding arm so that it was head level with my captor. He didn't even register this movement, despite it being just inches before his face. Tunnel vision from all the tension and stress was a terrible thing, and an even harder habit to get rid of. The most effective method was shock therapy: expose them to situations that cause it repeatedly until they learn. Crude, yet effective.

Source: me.

This was going to hurt, but I needed to do it. I closed my eyes and pressed the trigger.

My ears burst into agony at the loud crack. I felt the heat of the gases from the shot on my face, singeing the hair off my eyebrows. The captor behind me fared worse, the gun had gone off right before his face, deafening and blinding him simultaneously as the bullet buried itself in the fireproof foam. With a surprised shout, my captor released his hold on me. Eyes still closed and unable to hear well, I willed myself to curl up and drop to the floor. The Captain didn't waste a second and fired a bullet into the side of my captor. He collapsed, screaming in pain and clutching his rib.

Someone tapped my shoulder and I finally opened my eyes to look up and see an offered hand from the Captain. Just behind him, the rest of the squad scurries forward to secure the man.

"Sorry 'bout that." The Captain apologized to me as he helps me to my feet. I rubbed my ears in hopes that the ringing would subside. I guess I should be glad that my ear drums didn't burst.

"I'm still alive aren't I?" I answered back irately, which was met with a bark of laughter.

"Yeah, that's true. You enjoy the hazard pay?"

"As if. I put it into my savings."

"Smart move. You're the type to live long."

"I'll take that as a compliment... Hey, about that guy..."

"Oh, him?" He pointed a thumb to the trembling officer that had failed to check the corner properly and had led to the recent pseudo-hostage situation. He was being comforted by another officer, but it clearly had taken a toll on him. "He's the FNG. Top marks in the academy, but still wet behind the ears, I'm afraid."

"Yeah? He should get a desk job. Seems like he's a nice guy."

"Right? That's what I said! But the Big Boss thinks I can whip him into shape." [2]

"Good luck with that."

I radioed in Shiba, and let him know what had happened. He sounded worried, but he said that they had taken the Captain of the ship into custody. The crew was to follow.

I motioned to the Captain of the Special Forces and he nodded, and I followed him into cargo holding. The men had set up a three meter spread and we carefully walked into the area. To 'err' is to be human, but to make the same mistake twice is just pure stupidity. With fervent caution, they inspected every inch of the holding, as well as every shadow like a child making sure Baba Yaga wasn't in their room. As expected from a spec-ops team, they didn't even need to get yelled at to learn their lesson.

The cargo hold was a wide space, filled with rows and rows of steel shipping containers that sat upon the drab gray steel floor. The roof was covered in that fireproof foam with hanging lamps providing ample lightning. They swung this way and that with the sway of the boat on the water, and the beams of lights moved nauseatingly from side to side.

"We got about 200 boxes here, and a 100 topside," I told Shiba.

"There's a duplicate in the manifest. There's a container here that isn't accounted for." He explained quickly.

"How are we gonna find that?"

"Hard way? We go and ID every container, then match it. Easy way? We ID every container. And match it."

"That could take hours…"

I stared out over the field of various colored steel containers, feeling intimidated by the scope of the task before us. I was about to turn to the Captain to let him know what we had to do, but I was interrupted by a shout. My gaze snapped to the source, and of course it's the FNG who had slipped on a puddle and hit the butt of his gun on a container‒

Wait.

"Hit that container again," I told him.

"W-what?" The FNG stuttered.

"Hit. The. Container."

"O-oh."

He does as I ordered him, and a strange sound fills the air. I tapped the box next to me with my foot, and it sounded more hollow with a metallic tinny note. The Captain seemed to catch onto my plan and he yelled at his men to do the same. One by one I heard the sounds of them tapping different boxes, and they all sounded hollow like mine.

But not the one the FNG had hit.

"Good job." Grunted the Captain to his newbie.

"O-oh!" The FNG looked relieved.

"You're still washing the bathroom floor with a toothbrush when we get back."

"O-oh."

The Captain turned to look at me and I confirmed his silent question by tilting my head in the direction of the first box.

"Men, I want a half cover around the box, 3 meters." The Captain barked as he took point. His team fell into a semi circle around the entrance to this steel container. Their gun barrels pointed forward in case anything unexpected should happen (again). I nodded to the Captain, who returned it to let me know that they were all in position. One of the operators got the confirmation signal from the Captain and opened the door.

The first thing I noticed was the rush of heat that came from its interior. I peered inside with my gun raised, and see rows of cardboard boxes lining the walls, covered in black nylon tarps. At the center was a space heater that glowed bright orange. As my flashlight moved around, I realized that I wasn't alone in this space.

There were five little girls sitting around the space heater, bathed in its amber glow. They all had small bodies, thin arms, and frazzled hair. They looked like they ranked in age from primary school to their early teens. All of them wore what seemed to be a single piece white shirt, blackened and ragged with dirt and grime. Someone had at least given them the luxury of a few blankets, used to cover their legs and backs. The walls were covered by a type of carpet and I can only assume this was an attempt at insulation.

I unconsciously lowered my pistol and moved closer to get a better look at them. They returned my stares with their own, filled with fear and apprehension. My eyes are caught by the actions of one girl in particular, whose gaze flickered nervously between me and a black tarp to my right. My blood stilled. Something was wrong.

"AAAAAAAHHHHH!"

A girlish war cry is followed by a rush of air as the black tarp is flung away and a small figure ran at me with something in their hands. My body moved on instinct, swerving to my right to avoid the stabbing attempt and grabbing the outstretched arm as it passed me.

 _"No more! No more!"_ The girl wailed in language that wasn't Japanese. _"Just kill us!"_

Wait. I knew that tongue. I took a closer inspection at the girl who had just tried to gut me. She was young, but seemed to be the oldest of the group here going by height alone. She had shoulder length black hair and a tear stained face. Her hands weren't holding a knife, but a rusted shard of metal that I could only guess she had tore from the floor of the container. Fresh blood dripped from her hands, palms cut by contact with the improvised blade.

"You're safe now." I responded back, slowly prying open her fingers and throwing away the scrap of metal. She needed medical attention, and most likely tetanus boosters to avoid bacterial infection. Injuries from rusted metal tended to cause lockjaw. I slowly pulled her towards the inside of the container, letting her know I had no ill intentions. I get down on one knee before the group of adolescents, and begin rubbing their heads softly. I started saying reassurances in all the languages I know: English, Mandarin, Sinhalese, Japanese.

 _"You're safe now."_

 _"Everything will be alright."_

 _"It's okay."_

Δ▼Δ

The Coast Guard sent back up within the hour. Onboard medical came and collected the 6 injured persons we found in that container as well as our one interloper. Said interloper (who had me in a headlock and at gunpoint) was flown to a hospital as soon as we touched the pier. They feared that he might go into shock and die. Even if they didn't deserve it, we must still had to take care of criminals. There was a human right to life and maintaining their dignity. Ironic.

The five youngest girls had no obvious injuries, and were carefully loaded into a police van. The oldest was rushed to a hospital to get the appropriate treatment needed. I felt uncomfortable when I realized her eyes were stick on me, and never left my person the entire time I was visible to her. All were eventually going to be sent to a medical facility for a basic check-up and given any care that they might need.

Hopefully, they would be taken into government custody afterwards. But I can't be sure. With the political climate of this country as it is, their futures are up in the air. I didn't know if this is the right path, but I felt like I had no other option. I was just a detective anyway, what could I do?

Right?

 _ **Right?**_

These thoughts filled my mind as I sat at the edge of the harbor, still in my combat gear. I had no jacket nor umbrella, instead letting the rain hit my body unabated. It felt like hundreds of tiny cold daggers were stabbing into me, and I couldn't find the strength in me to deny them.

I heard footsteps come up to be from behind. Turning my head slightly I saw Chief Tsurumi trailing up the pier with a large black golf-umbrella in hand. He wordlessly walked up and held it over my head, causing a shadow to pass over my body and giving me shelter from the elements.

"I heard what happened. And what you did."

I shook my head and snorted. "I didn't do anything."

"Is that so?"

"I didn't save them. I couldn't save them." I whispered bitterly as I brushed my wet bangs aside to keep my eyes clear. "I just picked them up after it was too late. I couldn't prevent their suffering."

"I don't think anyone could have prevented it."

"No! If… if only I had figured out this case earlier, found the connections between the suspects sooner… Maybe if I didn't kill Ouma Daichi and interrogated him instead, this all could have been avoided."

The Chief sighed deeply and puts a hand on my shoulder. It was very warm. "Hikigaya, you think too much. These 'what-ifs' are things no one can predict. The fact of the matter is that your deductive skills and interrogations stopped those girls from ending up in worse places."

"Yeah right."

"They're scarred mentally, separated from friends and family, and are thousands of miles from home. Things were already at their lowest, but you… gave them a chance back at life."

I scoffed. "A chance back at life? More like I let their lives turn to shit and I just it made it less shit. Still shit either way. Still a brutal life."

"Oh?" The Chief gives me a small smile. "Weren't you in a similar position just a few years back? Didn't my brother offer you a similar chance? And didn't you take him up on it? Instead of going back to a civilian life, you decided to try and make something with what you had left, despite knowing how difficult it was going to be."

This guy…

I groaned and held my head in my hands. "I hate when you start saying things that make sense."

The Chief chuckled heartily and tousled my hair in a fatherly manner.

"Even if it's hard, you made it right? We just need to hope that they can too. You did a good job today and throughout this case, Hachiman. You should be proud."

And he walked away, leaving me sitting on the pier. Alone once more.

 **Chapter 8.5 "Immemorial"**

 _ **[Yukinoshita Yukino POV]**_

As soon as I had awoken, I noticed that the terrible deluge from yesterday had passed, leaving only a cloudy morning that wrapped the world outside my hotel room window in a dull gray.

I quickly brushed my teeth and ate breakfast before I opened my laptop at the wooden table beside my bed. In the Google search bar I type in: _UN Declaration of Human Rights Article 5_. What came up was the actual document from the United Nations website. Surprisingly, Article 5 consisted entirely of a single brief sentence.

"'No one shall be subjected to torture or to cruel, inhumane, or degrading treatment or punishment.'" I read aloud, biting my bottom lip in frustration.

What did this even mean?

Not as in the literal meaning, it was quite clear in that regard. But what constituted cruel, inhumane, or degrading? What were the criteria? There must be some sort of moral gray zone, right?

What actually happened to Hikigaya-kun? What did he actually do?

And why?

All questions that I couldn't get out of my thoughts since his testimony in court. I saw the way his face seemed to lose life as the prosecutor narrowed down the inquiries to directly touch upon Hikigaya-kun's past.

I said 'past,' but it was more accurate to call it 'recent history,' in that gap between the last time I saw him and now.

Unfortunately, the answers to my questions might have to come from a source I was hesitant to talk to, even if our relationship had improved leaps and bounds over the years.

Δ▼Δ

"Yukino-chan, over here!"

A loud and overly lively voice hailed me from across the small luncheonette. No doubt, the number of uncomfortable stares I felt on my person was partially due to my own appearance but mostly due to my sister's insistence to be as troublesome as possible. I crossed the quaint eatery quickly and found my sister at window side table, green shrubbery on the other side of the screen.

"Nee-san!" I hiss angrily in a low voice as I take a seat. "What did I say about doing things in public!?"

"Uhhhh, that I shouldn't?"

"And what did you just do?"

"Do it?"

"Yes! And why did you do it despite me telling you not to!?"

"But Yukino-chan, I just wanted to express my sisterly love!" She gave me a brilliant smile that made my eye twitch.

"I don't know why I bother." I sighed tiredly and took the menu into my hands.

"Now, now, you can give me this at least right?" Bargained Nee-san with a mischievous look in her eyes. "After all, it's quite rare for you to call me out."

I cleared my throat. "Yes, well… It's regarding-"

"Hikigaya-kun?" Nee-san interrupted me and peered at me through lidded eyes, the amusement evident on her face. The intensity in her gaze caused me to flush slightly, and I struggled to keep composure.

"Y-yes. Actually, something has happened, and I require your assistance."

"Oh? A problem you can't solve? Must be something pretty difficult then."

"Rather than 'difficult' it would be more appropriate to say 'unexpected'..."

The waiter came and we order our food. I took the time to tell Nee-san of the events that occurred during the trial as we wait for the meal to be cooked. When I mentioned that Hikigaya-kun was called to the stand, Nee-san's face held a dark expression. As I continued to detail the prosecution's questioning of Hikigaya-kun, her face became darker and darker.

"... and how did he know?" Nee-san asked. I'm not sure if its rhetorical or not, but I hesitantly answer anyway.

"... I have no idea."

" They have a source, but... Who would...? How would they...? When did they...?"

I said nothing and simply watched my sister process the information as she covers her mouth with a hand. What she said next however, completely blindsided me.

"I probably should have told you about that, shouldn't I?" She whispered.

What!?

"You knew!?" My voice was louder than I intended, and the nearest waiter raised a single brow at me as I covered my mouth. When he walked away, I looked back at Nee-san. "Are you telling me you knew this beforehand?"

"I did." Nee-san didn't even attempt to lie or placate me. A marked change in her behavior that I've come to appreciate and enjoy. We both understood each other so much more now, trusting our honest thoughts to one another. "But I didn't think it was relevant… and besides, I didn't think it was appropriate to tell you without his permission."

I was speechless.

"But why?" The question left my mouth bare and emotionless.

"I didn't think it was relevant to the case… and besides Hikigaya-kun seems intent on burying it. He's not particularly proud of that time by the looks of it."

"Pride is outside the question! The… the severity of the act is…."

"Yukino-chan." Nee-san cut me off sternly. "I understand that you may still think of him as the old Hikigaya-kun from high school. The boy who would lose his head if it wasn't attached to his body. But thinking like that is…"

Her sentence broke off and her eyes stared into my own. A serious look unlike anything I had seen before adorned her beautiful face. People always said that I resembled my mother more than my sister, but at times like these I couldn't help but disagree. She considered her next words, and subtlety shook her head before changing to another sentence.

"... he's not a wayward teenager anymore. He's a detective. He fights crime on a daily basis as a career. He lives by himself and he's self-sufficient. On top of that, he's a veteran soldier. He's been through things. A lot of things. He's changed." Her eyes hardened as she finishes her thought.

Hikigaya-kun has changed?

Yes, he may have. He may be darker and more cynical, but that strange charisma and endearing kindness he has is still there. It's just concealed. I could see it in how he interacted with his coworkers, and how they flocked to him for help much like I and many others did back in our highschool days.

"Even if he's changed, there's something that he's hiding to make sure it doesn't worry those close to him. He's doing the same thing as he did back then, that's just how he is," I said to Nee-san, who blinked at me.

"So you think you can 'save' him? Like he did for you did back then? Yukino-chan, the Service Club no longer exists. He hasn't been there for years. And you haven't been relevant in his life for just as long."

"It's not that I want to 'save' him." I hurriedly explained, trying to find the words. "And I understand that time has passed. But he's hurting somewhere deep, and even if he won't ask me for help I can st‒"

"What? Pity him?" She finished my sentence harshly, causing me to snap my mouth shut. "Yukino-chan, why do you want to help him? Did he ask? Does he even need your help? He's accepted who he is, and I can guarantee you that he's fine with things as they are. So who are you to tell him that he needs help?"

She's right.

Who am I to tell him what to do?

Actually…

Who am I to him?

Was I still Yukinoshita Yukino, his club President? Was I still the girl he helped during the cultural festival, who taught me that relying on others was fine? Was I still the girl who had trouble connecting to others, but he had patiently waited for me to learn? Was I still the girl who had depended on others, and him especially, to a fault? Was I still the person whom he sacrificed himself to help?

Or was I now just Yukinoshita Yukino, the ghost of a time immemorial?

"It's not pity."

"If it's not pity, than is it out of obligation? Do you feel you have to help him because of how he helped us get together as a family again?"

"No, it's not that either… I…"

What was it? What drove me to believe that Hikigaya-kun needed help? Was it the dark and empty look in his eyes? The way a pained grimace seemed to be naturally at ease on his face?

 _"I think it's kind of pathetic, that face your making right now," said a lifeless voice. "You haven't spoken or done anything, so why cry? Weren't those your words, Yukinoshita? 'Those who do not try have no rights to complain'?"_

 _His words caused me to gasp and the tears stopped running down my cheek. I slowly removed myself from Yui embrace to look at the one who said those words: the boy with the eyes of a dead fish. He continued after our gazes met._

 _"We're still not done yet… you can still do more. You can keep going. After all, vague answers and mutual back-scratching… you don't need any of it. But if you keep thinking, agonizing, and struggling you…"_

"... still can get something genuine, was it?" I whispered quietly, replaying that scene within Yui's room in my mind. A memory I had enshrined with my other treasured moments in the recesses of my conscious.

"Yukino-chan?"

It would probably be easier if I kept away, maintained the distance that Hikigaya-kun and I had formed in our adult lives. But I know how he was, and I know that he was the type to bottle his own problems and suffering and declare himself as being 'fine.' That he didn't need to be saved because he was never in any harm in the first place.

He'll gladly prostrate himself for others, but not for his own sake. It was a worry Yui and I both had whenever we watched him. I could look away and believe that he had grown past that and had learned how wrong those methods are. But something terrible has happened to him, and I can't help but fear that he simply dug a hole too deep and only reacted in the ways he knew how. And I didn't like that, because I didn't like what it did to him.

I looked at Nee-san and gave a clear answer. "I care about Hikigaya-kun, that's why I want to help him. Even if he wants it or not."

Nee-san's eye-lashes fluttered in surprise before shifting into a wide smile that showed her brilliant teeth. "Yup! That's a good answer. Really good! Okay then, I'll help you out as well. I'll tell you everything I know."

"Nee-san…." I felt thankful once again of the struggles we had overcome throughout the years to arrive at such a point. I was relieved knowing that I would be getting her invaluable help.

"No problem, no problem." Nee-san suddenly looked thoughtful and tapped her chin in deep thought. "Hmm, well for the first piece of vital information you need to know..."

She turned her head to the left and right, making sure no one else was paying attention to us. She beckoned me closer.

"Y-yes?" I asked nervously. What did she have to say that required this much caution? I couldn't even hope to guess.

"You see…" She got closer to my ear and whispered softly. "You don't need to worry, because..."

I swallowed. "Y-yes?"

Nee-san eyes did one more search around the room.

"... Hikigaya-kun's still single."

Huh?

What did that have to do with….

The thoughts clicked in my head and I felt as though my face burst into flames at the speed I blushed.

"NEE-SAN!?"

 **Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**

References:

[1] Huaguangjiao Two is a reference to the Huaguangjiao One, which was a Chinese merchant ship built during the Southern Song dynasty and sank off the coast of the Xisha Islands.

[2] Reference to Hideo Kojima's "Metal Gear" series. Big Boss was the title that Naked Snake went by.

 **Authors Note:**

" **Cirque pendant l'orage" translates roughly to: "Circus during the storm." I think you know what I'm alluding to. I would like to give many, many, MANY thanks to Xynovitch for his help with this chapter. Without his advice this chapter would have ended up much differently and more boring at that. I implore you to read his work "Spirit World Diaries." It's one of the few well written supernatural fics on the site.**

 **Chapter 08 is all about action. I've been an avid reader of Tom Clancy for a while and I always enjoy a good action flick (John Wick is my personal fave). The inspiration for this chapter comes from Call of Duty 4: Modern Warfare, the opening mission titled "Crew Expendable." A lot of imagery also comes from the Tanker section in Metal Gear Solid 2.**

 **Determining how strong to make Hachiman in terms of combat was a real challenge. I've seen plenty of fics that go too much in either direction. Balance is hard, so instead I decided to create three rules: first was to keep him human. Second was to keep him flawed. Third rule was that there was no third rule. The scenario in this chapter was intended to showcase Hikki's flaws and strengths. I hope you enjoyed it.**

 **Another new thing this chapter was the change in viewpoints for the narrative. It was an idea I was floating for a time, but I'm glad I put it into use.**

 **Yes, the "he's single" joke refers to Chapter 2 where Haruno had asked Hachiman if he was single.**

 **-SouBU**  
 **(Editor: XioKenji)**  
 **(BetaReader: Lord of Admirals 412)  
**

 _Revision Log:  
_ _03/17/2020: Re-up_ _loaded with overhaul of tenses and changes in word choice and sentence structure as well as major grammar fixes. Deleted portions of authors note that are now irrelevant._


	9. Her English Patient

**Chapter 09: "Her English Patient"**

Sleep was quite the supernatural thing, if you sat down and thought about it. In certain cultures, waking up was synonymous with returning from the dead. To them, consciousness was life and anything else was not.

Which was pretty fitting, because when I woke up this morning I was sure I didn't fully make the transition and my soul was still half-caught in the afterlife. I felt like I was one of those stone tablets that housed the soul of monsters from Egyptian criminals and mages or whatever. [1]

In hindsight, sitting out in the rain and moping after working overtime for many days was not a good idea. The reward for my heroic deeds last night? A fever and painful cough from the flu.

"I just want to dieeeeee." I groaned into my pillow, my clogged sinuses made me sound like a grumpy sheep.

I phoned the Chief to call out sick, who gladly approved it. He told me to get some sleep, which was advice I eagerly followed. I wrapped myself like a snail in the covers of my bed and tried to ignore the discomfort from my aching frame and congested head. It felt as if someone was using my body as a snare drum and was slamming it repeatedly, playing the percussion line to "He's a Pirate" with a passion. [2]

Back when I was younger, my parents were never home, so Komachi and I would take care of one another whenever we got sick. It was one of the many things that solidified our sibling relationship. I cracked a smile at the thought. Maybe I should give her a call when I'm better…

I closed my eyes and heard the ticking of my living room clock all the way from the bedroom. The sound lulled me to sleep like I was counting sheep. The apartment felt a lot larger and colder than I remembered.

I drifted in and out of consciousness until the afternoon. When I woke up, it was to clean out my stuffy nose. As I reached to drink some water from a bottle I had near my side, I noticed the notification LED of my phone blinking. I had a lot of text messages and even some missed calls. Some were from Haruno asking about case information for pre-trial preparation. Hiratsuka-sensei and Rumi both sent messages wishing me a speedy recovery and promising to show up later. And hold on…

Yukinoshita actually texted me.

 _"Dear Hikigaya-kun, please call me back as soon as you receive this text message."_

Wow, she still texted like this? Talk about stiff.

 _"Dear Hikigaya-kun, this is an urgent message, please respond."_

She sounded pretty impatient, must have been something serious. Was it regarding the case? There were a few more messages from her.

 _"Dear Hikigaya-kun, I apologize. I have contacted the police station and Chief Tsurumi has kindly let me know that you are out sick today. I hope you are taking care of yourself, do not worry about contacting me. The message can wait."_

That's pretty nice of her, that trademark awkward thoughtfulness that really made you appreciate whatever she did.

 _"Dear Hikigaya-kun, I retract my previous sentiment. Chief Tsurumi has brought to my attention that you have been working 18 hours a day for the past two weeks. He has told me to contact Hiratsuka-sensei and has provided her number."_

My heart stops beating and I'm sure I was clinically dead for a moment.

The emotional-terrorist was going to have a new comrade soon.

CHIEF, YOU TRAITOR!

 _"Dear Hikigaya-kun, Hiratsuka-sensei and I have had a lovely conversation. She wanted me to pass on a message. She says that she will not be able to visit you during the day. She has requested that I come in her stead."_

MAYDAY! MAYDAY! MAYDAY! MAYDAY! MAYDAY!

Klaxons go off in my head. I tried to convince myself that there was no way Hiratsuka-sensei would be that cruel. This had to be a joke. No, I'm probably asleep. Hahaha, what a silly dream. Oh wait, there's another message?

 _"Dear Hikigaya-kun, I will be over in 20 minutes."_

That text was sent 19 minutes ago.

DEFCON 1! WE ARE AT DEFCON 1!

THIS IS NOT A DRILL!

THE PISTOL IS COCKED. I REPEAT, THE PISTOL IS COCKED! [3]

A knock at my door and all mental sirens melted into the void.

I got out of bed slowly and used the walls to support my dizzy self as I stumbled into the living room. I briefly considered not opening it, pretending that I'm not home. The knocks continued throughout my deliberation, and against my better judgment, I opened the door.

Surprise, it was Yukinoshita.

She stood before me in casual garb, which was a rare sight. She wore a white blouse with navy blue slacks that were covered by bright yellow rain boots that reached up to her knees. Over her was a dark green raincoat slick with water and a wet umbrella at her side. Shoot, did it start raining again? And didn't she have a car? Did she come by train?

It matters not, I had more pressing concerns. Namely, myself.

"Whatever your selling, I'm not buying," I said quickly, intent on driving away this nuisance. "Please go awa‒"

Her hand flew to my forehead and I shivered at the contact. Her hand felt soothingly cool against my skin.

"Your fever is absolutely burning." Yukinoshita fixed a glare on me. "I'm disappointed, Hikigerma-kun, can you not even avoid falling ill to microorganisms that are weaker than your own?"

"Leave me alone. Two harassing mothers in my life is already more than enough." Actually, if you include Shiba, that makes it three. I tried to bat Yukinoshita's hand away, but it seems I was a lot worse off than I thought. I could barely put any strength into it.

Yukinoshita took my weak resistance as a sign that I had given up and bulldozed into my apartment. Despite my protests, she managed to push me into my bedroom. After being shoved into bed, she fluffed the pillows and layered another comforter on top of my own. She dug through her purse and pulls out a bottle of medicine.

"Here, paracetamol. It should help with your fever."

"You carry this stuff around?" I asked, baffled.

"It's always good to be prepared."

Prepared? What are you? Some Swiss Army knife? Did you truly go to England? I'm starting to suspect that you actually had traveled to Switzerland and transformed into the support unit, Yuki-no-Swiss-ta.

She insisted that I take it, and I was too far out of it to actually fight back and so I shoved the pills into my mouth followed by some water to appease her. To my disappointment, she didn't leave my apartment.

"I'll be back with some food, try to rest."

And she was gone, her form walking into the depths of my home. Didn't even ask for permission to use my kitchen. She didn't even know where my tools are. Then again, she would probably figure it out. This is Yukinoshita we're talking about. Pushing those thoughts out of my head, I tried to fall asleep, but the sheer incredulousness of the situation had my mind going to ludicrous speeds. [4]

In my delirious state, I could barely tell how much time passed before Yukinoshita came back with a bowl of porridge. Ah yes, the friendly white slop that was at the heart of many a recovery on this island country. She handed me a bowl and spoon. I reached out for the spoon first. As soon as I tried to tighten my fingers around the utensil, my muscles protested painfully and gave out. The spoon dropped to the floor and Yukinoshita bent down to pick it up.

"Really now?" She gave an exasperated sigh that made me shy away. "Can you do anything for yourself?"

"... sorry. Didn't mean to be a burden."

Yukinoshita looked at me with eyes as wide as saucers. "You must really be ill if you're apologizing to me."

Umm… that was an insult, right?

She wiped the spoon with a tissue and sat at the edge of my bed, upon the covers. She dipped the spoon and scooped out some of the porridge. She brought it to my face.

Oh, hell no.

"We are NOT doing this." I hissed. "It's embarrassing!"

"There's no other option. You are far too weak to do it yourself, and you must eat. Stop being childish."

"..." I stared at the earthenware spoon with uncertainty. This was a trap, right? Yukinoshita was trying to poison me and take my worldly possessions, that must be it. Wait, she knew I didn't have anything. Was this then premeditated? Did Haruno send her little sister as an assassin? I didn't tell anyone about your boyfriend, honest!

"It's not enjoyable on my end either. But it's for the best."

I grumbled a bit before opening my mouth and accepting the food. My tongue was absolutely boiled from the flu and along with my stuffy nose, I couldn't taste a thing. It was probably good though. Swallowing was slightly painful, but I managed. My eyes glanced at Yukinoshita. I'm not sure if her cheeks are also red with embarrassment as mine are, or if my fever-addled brain was just playing tricks on me.

The cycle continued until I heard the spoon hitting the bottom of the blow, signaling that we were at the end of this bizarre ritual. I felt something hit my cheek, and I stared at the bare spoon being poked into me with an absent-minded Yukinoshita holding it.

"Yukinoshita…"

"Mmm? Is something wrong, Hikigaya-kun?"

"I can't eat porcelain."

As quick as lightning she stood up and gathered up the bowl and utensils and left the room as if the hounds of hell were after her, hurriedly stammering through and letting me know she was going to clean the bowl. I could hear the faucet running and the sounds of plates being put away.

I rested my head back on the pillows. With my stomach full and my stamina at its limits because of the flu, my eyelids started to feel heavy and slowly drooped. With nothing else to do, I allowed myself to fall asleep.

Δ▼Δ

 _"Mr. Soldier! Mr. Soldier!"_

 _I heard the pitter-patter of sandals hitting the dirt as a young girl called out to me and ran to my side, coming between me and a fellow soldier while we were having a conversation. She started pulling on my sleeve, much to the chagrin of my companion who I gave a quick apology to._

 _I crouched and brought myself to eye level with the meddler. "Is anything wrong?" I asked in my rudimentary Sinhalese._

 _She shook her head and started to drag me to the center of the village, where I noticed a gathering of women who all sat in a circle with a pile of dried straw husks at the center._

 _"O-oi!"_

 _"We're making grain baskets!" she said cheerfully, flashing me a toothy smile. My heart melted a little. She reminded me so much of a younger Komachi, and I'm not man enough to say that I'm not homesick. It felt like it had been decades since I last saw my adorable little sister or my beloved Chiba._

 _The little girl made space for me within the gathering, patting the ground next to her. With adorable seriousness, she began to teach me how to weave a straw basket. The women looked on with amused smiles, while some others scolded her, saying she should stop bothering the soldier. I tried to reassure them that it was not a problem. My fingers moved awkwardly, despite the clear instructions from my tutor. The more experienced weavers were going at it like machines on an assembly line: cranking out perfect baskets one after another at easily five times my speed._

 _I noticed other kids looking at us from the gaps in the houses and trees. They were in awe of the little girl for having the bravery to talk to the scariest of the scary soldiers. I sniffed at the thought that even kids thought my eyes indicated my persona to be suspect. The world was a cruel place._

 _My first straw basket was ugly and misshapen, the bottom bending inward from the poor support I weaved into it. I was going to throw it out and try again, but the little girl snatched it from my fingers._

 _"It can be used, no matter how it looks!"_

 _She gave me a brilliant smile that illuminated the dark corners of my heart._

 _"Is that right?" I said._

 _Her face scrunched in confusion suddenly and she asked me another question._

 _"I always call Mr. Soldier, 'Mr. Soldier'… but what is Mr. Soldier's real name?"_

 _Hey now… I've been here for a month already, and you asked me this so many times._

 _"My name is…"_

Δ▼Δ

A wet and cold sensation on my forehead aroused me from my slumber. I saw a pair of hands over my eyes, with pale white slender fingers on a soft looking palm. They removed a towel from my head and dipped it in a bowl filled with water before twisting out the excess and reapplying.

"Oh," said Yukinoshita softly, noticing my opened eyes. "I apologize for waking you."

I felt worse after my brief nap. Everything hurt and my head spun despite laying on my back. The eyes she was making made me feel even more nauseous, like I was held upside down and spun around. Those eyes reminded me of that time in the courtroom.

My hand reached out and gently grabs her wrist. Her eyes widened, but doesn't remove herself.

"It was bad…" I whispered, unsure where these words and thoughts were coming from. All I knew was that I had this urge to explain myself. "We had to survive… there was no other way… a lot of good people… could have died…"

"I know," she said quietly and her lips curled into a soft smile. "You probably made some horrible plan where only you did the evil things. That's just who are."

I blinked. Who did she think I was? Angra Mainyu? [5]

"Tobe-san's confession. Isshiki-san's problems with the Student Council. My own issues..." She trailed off, her eyes misting over. "In all of these, you didn't worry about yourself. By becoming the target you could throw caution to the wind. Options you never had before become open to you… and in some cases, they might be the only options you have."

These words… does she know?

Does she know about Sri Lanka? That year I spent in the jungle?

"I… I didn't agree with many of your decisions," she said slowly, as if tasting each word with her tongue before letting them out into the world. "But I don't think it makes you a bad person."

A strange feeling filled my heart. Like that time with the baskets, my heart was illuminated. What was this feeling? Nirvana? Enlightenment? Majesty? Awe?

No, none of these are descriptive enough.

I went silent, unable to respond to her powerful words. Yukinoshita continued to place the wet towel on my forehead rhythmically for a few more minutes before having me take another pill.

"You should go to sleep," she said and pulled the cover up to my chin.

"... thanks… for doing all of this…," I said through labored breaths.

"It's fine." She turned around, her long black hair twisting with her. She muttered something else under her breath that I couldn't quite catch. But I don't dwell on it as I let sleep claim me once more.

Δ▼Δ

The next morning came, and my head no longer felt like an overinflated balloon. To my relief, I no longer felt dizzy from just standing up, and I managed to walk into the hallway relatively safely. My ears caught the sounds of clattering pans and sizzling form the kitchen.

Curious. Who was in my apartment this morning?

I made my way over to the kitchen entryway and came face to face with an extraordinary sight. Two heads with long black hair were standing side by side in front of the counter. Did my flu evolve into some crazier disease? Because I'm seeing double.

"Is the singularity here? Did some runaway artificial intelligence finally invent cloning?" I grumbled, rubbing my eyes.

The two turned around.

"What nonsense are you saying, first thing in the morning?" Ah that stern tone, must be Yukinoshita.

"Yo." That nonchalant voice, that was Rumi alright.

"Morning you two." I greeted.

"Good morning, Hikigaya-kun"

"Hachiman, morning."

They looked at each other with questioning eyes.

My brain finally woke up and made an astute observation. "Wait, Yukinoshita why are you still here? You should have left a while back."

"It was too late to leave, the buses and trains had shut down." She explained calmly. "I stayed in the spare room across from yours I apologize, I took the liberty of searching and taking blankets from your closet."

"It's fine." I'm glad she took the safe option and stayed. "Better you did than didn't."

Things were getting iffy in Tokyo after all.

Yukinoshita wiped her hands on her apron before moving forward suddenly and invaded my personal space with the speed of a master kunoichi. She brushed aside my bangs and measured my forehead's temperature with the back of her hand. I heard Rumi make a sound reminiscent of a strangled dolphin that had its blowhole covered.

"Hmm, you still have a slight fever, but it's lower than last night." She noted, before nodding to herself. "Go ahead and wash up, breakfast will be served soon."

"O-okay…"

When I returned from the bathroom I was faced with a customary Japanese breakfast. I inhaled the distinct aroma of nostalgia.

"Why the full-on classics?" I asked the two women, who took seats at the table on opposite sides , forcing me to sit at the foot for the sake of feng shui.

"Tsurumi-san had come in the morning, claiming that she normally made breakfast on Fridays. She refused to let me do the work alone so we compromised to work together."

"'Together' is a strong word." Grumbled Rumi as she popped a bit of rice into her mouth.

"That it might be." Yukinoshita nodded her head in agreement. "Tsurumi-san is unable to cook anything other than Japanese items so we were forced to produce an entirely traditional meal."

"Tch!" Rumi clicked her tongue and looks away in embarrassment.

We ate breakfast in a relatively comfortable atmosphere. Yukinoshita had some small talk with Rumi, saying how it was nice to meet her again after all these years and asks about her high school life.

"It's not that bad I guess. I have a few friends at least. They're fun to be around," Rumi said emotionlessly.

"Oh? I'm happy for you," said Yukinoshita, and there was genuine joy in her voice. Rumi had managed to do what we couldn't by ourselves.

I pointed my nose up haughtily. "Yes, indeed. Rumi has grown a lot, and I expect to receive some thanks for my role in that."

"Is that so?" Yukinoshita looked at me with suspicion and Rumi just rolls her eyes. Cheeky brat.

"Speaking of improving, Hikigaya-kun your apartment is surprisingly clean." Yukinoshita's eyes looked over the living room as she says so. Indeed, everything is relatively spotless. A few layers of dust here and there from disuse, but besides that, it was neat and organized.

"I'm not that hopeless."

"As if." Scoffed Rumi, shooting down my response. "It's only clean because you're never home to begin with."

"Is that so?" Yukinoshita's eyes narrowed in anger. "That does make sense, but at the same time is paradoxical. Whatever happened to the man who wished to be a house husband to avoid working? And now that same person overworks himself?"

I felt the oncoming blizzard and quickly decided that in 'fight or flight', 'flight' was the best choice.

"I still do, I swear! I just went a bit far this time. It won't happen again, I'm sorry!" One of my 108 Loner Skills: begging for my life.

"Eeeeeh? This wouldn't be the first time he dropped sick out of exhaustion." Rumi piped in with a smug look on her face, pleased with dispensing vengeance.

Yukinoshita's gaze grew even colder.

"U-uh, R-Rumi! You're here earlier than usual!" I stumbled through my words, desperately trying to switch the topic for my own safety. "What's up with that?"

"Shizuka said that she wanted me to check on you, being sick and all. I left the house earlier."

Oh Shizuka, if I didn't hate your guts for what you pulled yesterday I would feel so grateful for your concern.

"Say, Hikigaya-kun. Why is Tsurumi-san at your house? I find it strange that a high school girl pays you personal visits. While she may be legal, the age gap leaves a bit to be desired. Oh, unless of course, this proves my theory that you are in fact, a lolicon. Have your morals degraded along with your eyes?"

"Absolutely not." I denied instantly. "I just happen to be well acquainted with the Tsurumi's."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow. "Please do explain yourself."

"Well, Shizuka married Rumi's uncle, Tsurumi Kenji, the Police Chief. I also served with Rumi's father in the JSDF, he was my C.O. He's the one that recommended me this job actually, said his brother was looking to hire or train a detective. Apparently, I fit the bill, so when I… got dismissed from service, I headed over to Tokyo."

"Hachiman…." Rumi worriedly tugged on my sleeve. She knew that my disaster of a military career wasn't my best conversational topic.

"It's fine, not a big deal really, Yukinoshita knows already." I assured her, ruffling her hair for good measure. Rumi smacked my hand away and glared. Yukinoshita looked on warmly.

When breakfast was over the two prepared to leave. Before she did, Yukinoshita said that she would return later on in the evening to check up on me. Rumi mentioned that Shizuka was going to come by later as well. Yukinoshita smiled and admitted that it would be nice to see her again.

Huh, you know, now that I think about it, Yukinoshita had been smiling a whole lot lately. This must be some sort of new world record.

And as they promised, three women show up at my doorstep in the evening, with a bottle of champagne fittingly in Shizuka's arms.

"Hachiman!" Hailed my ex-teacher as she flung my bedroom door open. "You alive!?"

"No, I'm not!" I yelled back. "And did you really bring booze with a minor around?"

"This bubbly is nonalcoholic!" She said proudly, as if her basic adherence to responsibility was worthy of recognition. Adults come in all shapes and sizes, I guess.

Yukinoshita and Rumi followed, and my room was officially invaded and occupied by external forces. Shizuka pushed and prodded at me subtly, her eyes making it clear she wanted to know what happened yesterday. I pointedly looked away from her knowing grin.

Yukinoshita got started on dinner, and we joined her in the kitchen, conversing as she worked her magic. All of this was loud and irritating… but fun.

Dinner was going swimmingly until Rumi made the tasteless remark that I was behaving lethargically. Shizuka confirmed that my fever had returned and manhandled me back into bed like this was some kind of sitcom routine.

As she pulled the covers over me and turned off the lights, she came close and whispers into my ear.

"Kenji told me about the docks. I'm proud of you."

I whispered back in mock anger. "Put a sock in it, lady. Let me sleep."

"Alright, you don't need to be pissy with me! Ungrateful prick."

There's no venom in her words and I cracked a smile as she left, closing the door after her. I could hear muffled voices as the girls chatter in the living room. I caught some phrases about TV shows and some talk about food.

I fell asleep thinking that my apartment doesn't feel as large and empty anymore.

Δ▼Δ

The next morning saw me waking up feeling completely refreshed. I was sure I had made a full recovery so I quickly texted the Chief saying that I would be coming in today and made my way out of the bedroom. I leapt out of bed, intending to eat a quick breakfast and run off to work.

When I left my room I notice that sounds are once more coming from the kitchen, which was strange. Did Rumi stop by again? Today wasn't one of the days she normally comes over. Wow, what a good kid, almost as good as Komachi. If a tad smarter. No offense, Komachi. But fear not my adorable little sister by blood, you're definitely cuter! I walked to the kitchen and peered inside, like a cartoonish thief despite being in my own home.

I was wrong. Standing in the kitchen with a yellow apron over her work attire was Yukinoshita Yukino.

"Good morning, Hikigaya-kun."

"Good mor– no, wait! This is totally wrong!" I burst out, stopping myself mid-sentence. "Why are you– No, how did you get in?"

"Hiratsuka-sensei gave me her set of spare keys. We both agreed that you were useless on your own."

I should have known.

"... it's far too early to beat down my self-confidence." I sighed in defeat. "Do as you wish."

I grabbed a book and took a seat at my usual location at the foot of the table, and started reading to pass the time. I glanced upward when I hear Yukinoshita walking out of the kitchen with a tray in hand.

"Oh? I'm glad to see you kept up the hobby." Yukinoshita set a bowl on the table in front of me. " _'The Conquest of Happiness'_? Have you finally acknowledged that your deplorable lifestyle is unfulfilling, Hikigaya-kun?"

" _Au contraire_ , I am merely gaining further evidence that happiness requires far more effort than unhappiness, thus doing nothing is the best thing to do. "

"I see you've returned to being a slug of efficiency." Yukinoshita sighed in disappointment. "At least it's real literature, not those juvenile wish-fulfillment fantasies you so commonly had. And in English at that."

"Yeah, well it's surprising how much you can pick up when there's only one book to read during a year's deployment and it happens to be in a foreign language. I think I memorized it before I actually understood it."

And I still read light novels! They are most certainly 'real literature' dammit! I'm just waiting for the next volume of Black Bullet! [6]

"Is that so? Impressive."

"Is that sarcasm?"

"Perish the thought." Yukinoshita had her own tableware set and filled with food before sitting down.

" "Thanks for the food" " We whispered. I waited for her to take a bite before I started eating myself.

"Is it okay for you to come here? Aren't you busy and all?" I asked, worried I may be causing trouble for her.

"It's not a problem." Yukinoshita denied with surety. "My father is aware of the case, and is gladly allowing me to dedicate all my time towards it."

"Yeah? Seems kinda weird, if I'm honest."

Yukinoshita chuckled softly. "I think my father is still trying to thank you. For keeping Nee-san safe. Oh, and Nee-san also sends her well wishes regarding your sickness."

"Tell her I don't need it." I'm suddenly curious. "Where do you work out of then?"

"I work out of the district attorney's office, under my sister's management temporarily. Will you be heading to the police station today?"

"I have some paperwork to finish up. I'll probably be leaving soon."

"I see, we should leave together then."

I raised an eyebrow, but don't comment.

We finished breakfast and I walked back into my bedroom to wear my work clothes. With a shirt and slacks on, I slipped on the shoulder holster. My pistol was next. With the event on the ship two nights ago, I had disassembled the gun to be wiped down and regreased. I didn't get around to putting together the upper and lower receiver to the grip yet. Lining up the grooves and easing it into place, I was met with a satisfying click.

"Hikigaya-kun? Are you alright?" Yukinoshita's voice came from outside the door.

"I'm fine," I called back. "Door's safe to open, I'm having trouble hearing you."

The door to my bedroom opened slowly as Yukinoshita entered with cautious steps.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"No, it was just that you were taking quite a bit of time. I was worried that maybe you were still ill."

"Oh. Sorry about that. I was just getting my stuff." I slipped the H&K into the shoulder holster, the action getting Yukinoshita's attention. The way her eyes widened made me chuckle.

"You scared?" I teased.

"N-no I'm not... but I've never been so close to one..."

Japanese gun laws were strict. To obtain a license, you have to take an all-day class, pass a physical and mental examination, and then also undergo a thorough background check. Even then, you could only buy shotguns and air-rifles, no handguns.

For law enforcement it was a bit different, but the restrictions on power still applied. Japanese police officers traditionally carried a New Nambu Model 60, a double-action revolver that accepts the 0.38 Smith & Wesson Special round.

Along with that, some officers opted to carry modern pistols as their primary. These were mostly guns that take the 9mm Parabellum standard. With the increase in crime, this option became more popular among law enforcement as of late. My own Heckler & Koch P30L took that 9mm round, although you'll rarely see this model in the country. As a detective, I also had the ability to get a concealed-carry license.

Japanese people rarely see weapons, so it's mostly a bit of a novelty.

I pulled my blazer from its hanger and was about to put it one before I'm interrupted by Yukinoshita.

"Where is your tie?"

"I don't wear one."

"Why not?" Her eyes narrowed in distaste. "Are you not a detective? You should look the part."

"I can't tie one. Besides, it slows down my morning." I retorted defensively.

Yukinoshita sighed and walks forward briskly, pushing me out of the way. She grabbed a black tie off the dedicated rack within the wardrobe. "Stand still."

She stepped up to me and popped my collar before I could protest, beginning the process of choking me with the colored flat rope known as a tie.

What in the world?

The sounds of her heels on my hardwood floor caused me to shoot my gaze downwards and stare at her legs, which were covered by black stockings today. They were longer and more shapely than I remembered in high school.

I could hear her soft breaths tickling my neck. At this distance I could smell the shampoo coming off of her hair. It was floral, maybe white gardenia with a hint of coconut. Her hands passed by my head several times as she looped the tie around my neck, and I could also catch a whiff of the soap she used from her hands. It was a refreshing sharpness, like sea salt in the flowing breeze at the beach.

I made the mistake of shifting my eyes upward a little and my eyes were captured by the shape of her nape. I hurriedly looked away, ever further up to her lips. They were a pretty pink color, with a soft glow to them. Is she wearing lipstick? Doesn't seem like her style, maybe lip balm?

I wondered what flavor it was.

I felt her tugging at the completed tie, letting me know that she was done. "There, all set."

Before I could even register what happens, she already has my blazer in her hands and helped me put it on.

This should make me embarrassed. Like, extremely embarrassed at the things we were doing. But I don't know how to feel. She came back into my life like a second hurricane that ravaged a land that was already hit by a previous storm. It was so chaotic, I just accepted it. Was I losing track of my life?

Was I becoming a 'herbivore' like those pundits on TV complain about? I was somehow part of the reason the birthrate was declining. And here I was thinking that I finally became a productive member of society.

"I'll walk you to the station," I said suddenly, surprising even myself.

Yukinoshita looked at me questioningly. "It's fine, I can manage."

"No," I said firmly. "I owe you for all you did this past week."

"If you insist…"

 **Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**

References:

[1] Yu-Gi-Oh! reference. The origin of duel monsters in the story is that ancient Egypt took the soul of criminals (which manifested as monsters) and sealed them inside stone tablets which mages summoned to battle.

[2] "He's a Pirate" is the iconic score from the Pirates of the Caribbean original soundtrack.

[3] DEFCON 1 is an alert level. The exercise term is 'COCKED PISTOL.' It means that nuclear war is imminent.

[4] Reference to Spaceballs, where lightspeed is too slow and the next higher tier is "ludicrous speed."

[5] Fate Hollow/Ataraxia reference. Angra Mainyu was a human during the Zoroastrian times who was the singular sacrifice of a village. He was intended to take on all the evils of humanity, and absorb it all so the village can be good.

[6] Black Bullet is a series of light novels that have been on hiatus since Volume 7 back in 2014. The author was hit with major backlash from the release of the anime adaptation and he lost the will to write.

 **Author's Note:**

 **The title of this chapter refers to the 1996 romantic war-drama film: 'The English Patient." It started Ralph Fiennes and Kristin Scott Thomas. I think you guys know exactly what type of imagery I was trying to make, heh. Our hero falls ill after staying out in a thunderstorm after working severe overtime hours. Shizuka and Kenji conspire against our poor detective and send Yukino to heal him up. Hijinks ensue.**

 **The goal of this chapter was to further drive home the new "family" environment Hachiman has made around himself. Establish the new normals in his life as opposed to his high school self. I tried putting in a few tidbits to give depth to the lives of the characters who operate in the world I've made.**

 **The flashback is of Hachiman's time in Sri Lanka, before the dark things happened. Yukino assures Hachiman that she still believes he is a good person, which may be enough to assuage his fear that those close to him will hate him.**

 **Also… fluff. HachiYuki fluff. The best kind of fluff. The purest fluff.**

 **-SouBU**  
 **(Editors: XioKenji; Lord of Admirals 412; Xynovitch)**

_Revision Log:  
_ _02/18/2019: Added new part to authors note  
_ _04/04/2019: Retcon added for Room-and-Tie scene. Added Arc title.  
_ _03/17/2020: Re-uploaded with overhaul of tenses and changes in word choice and sentence structure as well as major grammar fixes. Deleted portions of authors note that are now irrelevant._


	10. Youth Wasn't Killed, it Died

**Chapter 10: "Youth Wasn't Killed, it Died"**

The off-white walls of the briefing room enclosed me once more. I nursed a cup of tea in my hands as I stared up at the roof from my seat. The ceiling was covered in the usual speckled tiles that you would see in your run-of-the-mill office buildings: slabs of white surfaces with black flecks that melted together strangely into abstract patterns that magically tessellated into squares. My attention was caught by the ceiling fans, which were doing absolutely nothing to circulate the muggy air despite their wings turning in lazy circles.

Why do ceiling fans exist?

What is their purpose, when modern science has produced climate control machines, such as the air conditioner, that are far more effective at cooling. Had technological evolution failed us?

The briefing room was packed with police officers and detectives, but you couldn't tell from the deafening silence.

"Alright ladies. Ears up, eyes open, and cheeks clenched. Let's debrief."

The voice of the Chief rouseD the souls of the exhausted populace in the room, many of whom had been working since the crack of dawn the previous day. The very same people who drank all the coffee and forced me to dispense an inferior drink as a source of caffeine to keep my own engine running.

The Chief paced at the front of the room.

"As you all know, cargo ship CS201 was intercepted in Tokyo Bay and the crew was taken into police custody and questioned. As expected, they were not privy to the contents of the containers, they just moved the cargo."

No one said anything, as none of this was anything new nor unexpected. But if this was the Chief calling a briefing, more… interesting tidbits were sure to come forward. The anticipation made the air more strained as the Chief cruelly built up the tension like some perverse author. I spotted an officer to my side take out a handkerchief and wipe the sweat off his brow.

"A shipping crate was found on the bottom deck that was not part of the manifest. Inside we found 6 underage girls. We also encountered an armed suspect. He attempted to attack the investigative crew, but was subdued. After questioning, he revealed he was from Malaysia and was part of a port gang that escorted certain goods. We didn't get much else, he joined the crew at the Malaysian port, after the secret container had already been stowed. No one knows where or when it was placed on the ship, just that it was there before the ship landed in Malaysia."

The Chief pauses to about-face and trotted in the opposite direction.

"The recused are all between the ages of 10 and 14. They come from all over the South East Asia region. Two from the Philippines, one from Thailand, one from Indonesia, and one from Sri Lanka."

Made sense. It was clear why they were from those particular countries, seeing as they were dealing with either violent governmental power transitions, coups, or drug wars. A few with all three. The girls were easy targets amidst the chaos.

The Chief continued. "Some were plucked from refugee camps and shanty towns, even taken off the streets. Not all were kidnapped, the two from the Philippines were actually sold to human traffickers by their families."

A heavy atmosphere settled in. An officer next to me had twitching fingers that crawled to his shirt's front pocket, where a few cigarette heads could be seen. The stress had reached critical mass, I noted duly.

I cracked my knuckles. Here we were, trying to catch fish, but a shark ended up getting itself trapped in our boat's net. Our search for a shipment of banned substances was in order to get better insight or some leads into a drug trade that was beginning to grow in Tokyo, but we ended up upturning a human trafficking ring. This was far more than we bargained for.

The Public Security Intelligence Agency's Tokyo branch might intervene at any moment and complicate matters. It was annoying to work with an organization that had far less red tape and far greater jurisdiction. Discrepancies between collaborators like that made it impossible to coordinate and things tended to get out of hand quickly. I was regretting not stopping by the convenience store to buy a can of MAX. Or six.

I cringe, and decide to be honest with myself: I would have gotten 12.

"The girls say that nothing was done to them." Added the Chief as he stops his rhythmic and semi-manic walk to have his eyes passed over the crowd. He'd return to it in a heartbeat if we let him keep speaking

"Of course they wouldn't be touched," I said loudly. All eyes were drawn to me, but I tried to ignore them. My hands started playing around with the cup of tea, sloshing the liquid against the lip of the paper container in lazy elliptical cycles. "Underage prostitution is high value, especially for virgins. To maximize profits you need to keep the merchandise intact. When they get to land, they'll be bathed; have their hair done; forced into a dress according to the preferences of some sicko customer; and then given to him to have his way with."

I finished talking and was met with complete silence. Someone coughed uncomfortably in the back of the room, echoing throughout the air with a sound not unlike a mortar shell.

"He's right." Agreed someone out of the blue, nearly causing me to drop my cup. "If they were being shipped here, then of course some people in Japan with deep pockets wanted this service."

I'm shocked, my reputation wasn't exactly at its best at the current moment.

"But we were expecting a shipment of opiates or narcs, not human capital." Interjected Shiba. "Are the two connected? Our source didn't seem to imply anything of the sort, and his information has been accurate so far."

"We haven't found a paper trail, we have no clue what to actually look for," I said. "The explanation can be anything at this point."

"It's a possibility, and I don't want to take anything off the table until we've investigated this further." Explains the Chief with a grim expression. "We've set up constant surveillance at the pier. We'll be updating you all on the situation as it evolves."

He looked over the briefing room slowly, meeting everyone's eyes one-by-one.

"Task forces may be organized to increase efficiency. Expect reassignments in the near future, so don't get too comfortable wherever you are. You're all dismissed."

Δ▼Δ

The talk of human trafficking and potentially having to move all my office supplies stirred my appetite.

I had no leftovers to make lunch with. If anything, this was a wake-up call that I was being far too reliant on Yukinoshita and Rumi for sustenance. I went out into the neighboring town and had a basic meal at a fast food joint. Mass produced burgers and fries were decent enough to live, but my stomach protested, demanding the amazing homemade food it was conditioned to/spoiled by.

Could this be some elaborate scheme between the two women to instill Pavlovian responses in me? How conniving, but I shall take advantage of it somehow.

I strolled back to the office at a leisurely pace. When I passed through the main doors and into the lobby I noticed Rumi standing by the information desk. Still in her school uniform, the teenager had a frown on her face while talking to Secretary-chan. Secretary-chan shook her head once at something Rumi said, and went for a sip of water.

"Rumi?" I called out as I come close.

Rumi turned her head at my call. "Hachiman."

Secretary-chan spat out her water and starts coughing harshly, causing Rumi and I to look at her in concern. She waved us away, insisting she was fine.

 _("He's into younger women? Ok, that works, I'm younger than him. Wait, what if he's into REALLY younger women?")_

Some sort of chant to summon one of the 72 Demons was being said under her breath, and I couldn't understand a thing she muttered, so I just assumed she was actually alright.

"What are you doing here?" I asked Rumi. While she wasn't a stranger to the HQ, she wasn't exactly a common sight.

"I wanted to speak to Uncle Kenji." She pulled something out of her skirt pocket and held it out. "I found a cellphone on the subway and wanted to hand it over to the lost and found."

I took the cellphone from her hands and inspected it. It was a smartphone with a bright and sparkly pink case. "The Chief's busy right now, but I can take care of it from here, don't worry about it. Anything else?"

Rumi shook her head. "Thanks Hachiman. Shizuka says she wants you over for dinner."

"Yeah? I'll be there." Rejoice, o' stomach of mine. Your wish shall be granted. [1]

After grabbing the schoolbag by her feet, Rumi said goodbye and walked out of the station. I can't help the small smile that crawled its way up. I turned to ask Secretary-chan for a lost and found form, but she's looking at me with an uncharacteristic analytical stare.

"Lolicon?" she asked, her voice deathly seriously.

"Like hell, idiot." I snapped back.

"So, who was she?"

"Family." I answered without hesitation. "Oi, I need the form."

I began filling out the paperwork. Some of it had been filled in by Secretary-chan who wrote down the time and area that Rumi had said she found it. When the form asked for a physical description was when I gave it a good inspection

The case of the phone was covered with stickers of cute animals and catchphrases. The phone was weighed down by a long lanyard filled with stainless steel and enamel charms. I press the power button, and the screen switches to life. There's a lock screen, and the picture used was that of a little white dog frolicking around on the floor of a house. It looked like a bathroom rug with stumpy legs. A Maltese, I think they called it. Pretty cute.

You could practically learn everything about this person from their phone alone. The owner of the phone was most likely a girl. She was upbeat, cheerful, and probably liked a lot of things without discrimination. My gut instinct told me that they were a genuinely nice person, finding some sort of beauty in whatever they encountered. There weren't many people like that out there, I myself only met one such human being.

They also had a particular love for their pet, a mark of a saint. Or a psychopath. Same thing, right?

As I'm filling out the form, I heard a rush of footsteps echoing throughout the lobby. Whoever had just ran in was panting heavily when they came right up to my side and hurriedly spoke out to Secretary-chan.

"E-excuse me! I lost my phone on the subway! Did someone happen to turn it in?"

Secretary-chan and I shared a glance.

"Can you describe the device miss?" Asked Secretary-chan as she pulled out a sticky note.

"Uhhh, it's a smartphone. Has a pink case, I have a lot of stickers on it. And a lot of silver pieces on a strap. Oh, oh, and the background is a white dog!"

"Do you happen to have a screen lock on it? Any passwords?"

The woman gave the password, which I typed in to the phone. It unlocked and I hand the phone and paper over to Secretary-chan. The woman squealed in delight and thanked her repeatedly, which Secretary-chan smiled happily at. Infectious happiness is infectious, after all.

"Umm are you the one who found it? Thank you." The woman spoke to me.

I turned around, intent on telling her that I didn't really do anything and that a good Samaritan had actually brought it in. The woman seemed to be around my age. She had brown hair that fell down to her shoulders, and bright brown eyes. All on a rounded gentle face with equally soft features. She was attractive. But it wasn't the same kind as the hammer of sexy that was Haruno nor the noble elegance of Yukinoshita.

It was more of a 'that pretty girl-next-door' vibe. Unlike the other two, she was more approachable and less intimidating. Or rather that was how it was supposed to be, if she hadn't been looking at me as if I was Banquo's ghost. [2]

"HIKKI!?" She yelled in disbelief.

"... who are you?"

"Hikki, it's me!" She insisted, pointing at herself.

Who's 'me'?

"I'm sorry, I don't think we've met before…" I froze mid-sentence. Wait a second. 'Hikki?' There was only one person who called me by that name. Only one. Just one. I looked at the woman again, her features suddenly familiar. A girl with pink hair overlapped and it all clicked.

"... Yuigahama?" I asked almost out of breath, even my lungs in disbelief at this meeting.

"Hikki…"

We stood there staring at one another, both of us with mouths opened and eyes widened.

"Umm…?" Secretary-chan butted in. "Do you know her, Hikigaya?"

"Y-yeah." I stammered, trying to get my thoughts straight. "She was a clubmate of mine back in high school."

Secretary-chan blinked. "She went to school with you and Shiba? Wait, she was in the same club? So, she was there with you and your lawyer?"

"How did you know that?" I narrowed my eyes at the redhead behind the desk. The answer becames clear in a moment. "The DA?"

"Yup. Haruno-san stops by and chats once in a while. She has a lot of stories you know?"

Oh, I'm sure she does.

"Haruno-san?" I heard Yuigahama whisper.

I scratched the back of my head and addressed the friend I hadn't seen in years.

"Wanna walk for a bit?"

Δ▼Δ

Yuigahama demurely followed me into the courtyard, where the sun had begun to set, bathing the area before us in an orange glow. I took a seat at a bench, and Yuigahama does the same, albeit sitting half a meter away from me.

"... you have a new dog?" I asked out of the blue, eager to end the silence.

"Yeah." Yuigahama nodded. "We got one after Sablé… well... left."

"... I see." Amazing Hachiman, you really know how to set the mood, huh? "It looks cute, the new one."

"His name is Shiro, and he's a bit of a handful, but his leash stays on all the time." Yuigahama laughed awkwardly. "... so Hikki works for the police now, huh?"

"Uh, yeah," I said, caught off guard. "Well, specifically I'm a detective."

"Eh? Don't you have to be smart to be a detective?"

"I'm plenty smart." I responded with a scoffing tone, affronted at the implication.

"But Yukinon always called you dumb."

"Her standards are skewed. Most of the world is dumb to her anyway. Besides, I'm smarter than you at least."

"That's mean! I'll have you know I got good grades in college!"

"Yuigahama." I put on a mock serious voice, which seemed to get her attention. "It's not nice to lie."

She stuck her tongue out at me. "If Hikki was a real detective, he would have figured this out!"

"What are you talking about?"

We bickered back and forth over the legitimacy of my claim, with Yuigahama refusing to believe me until I show her my badge and ID. She looks impressed before her face becomes solemn.

"So… is what that lady said about Yukinon and Haruno-san…" Her words trail off, unable to figure out a way to sensitively break the topic. This amount of trepidation was unlike her, a testament to her uncertainty.

"Haruno is the new District Attorney. She's kind of my boss. Yukinoshita started working as a lawyer in her office, we worked on a case together when she came back from England. First time I saw her."

Lying would be easier, but the hardest to maintain, besides, Yukinoshita and Yuigahama are still close. The truth was the best solution. But not the entire truth. I haven't even told Yukinoshita everything regardless.

Yuigahama nodded her head slowly and looks at her feet. "That must be the reason why Yukinon invited me to stay with her for a few days."

Yukinoshita invited Yuigahama to come to Tokyo? Why didn't I hear about this? Well, I guess I'm the last person to be asking that.

"So, what's going on with you?" I asked, leaning backwards. "You still live in Chiba?"

"Yeah, I still do." A small breeze floated by and Yuigahama held a hand over her ear to keep her hair in place. I was entranced for a second, by how feminine and graceful it was. It was a far cry from the clumsy and skittish Yuigahama of old. "I have my own apartment, and I'm roommates with Hina-chan from Soubu."

" 'Hina?' " I parroted.

"Hikki… she was in your class for two years in a row, you know?" Yui said with a disappointed frown.

"H-hey, it's been a while!" I said defensively.

"Ebina Hina, you remember? She wears glasses." Yuigahama made two circles with her thumb and index fingers on both hands and placed them before her eyes. "The Kyoto trip?"

"Ah. I remember."

What a clusterfuck that was. No wonder my mind was in no hurry to recall that.

"Yukinon remembered right away!"

"Isn't that because you two have been talking nonstop since high school? She's better informed!"

Yuigahama blinked at me. "Yukinon told you that?"

"Yeah she did…," I said uncomfortably, stretching out my legs. "Back when she was first assigned, we had a talk. Not about a lot, but we did talk about you… something about a promise you two made."

"Oh.…" Yuigahama looked let down.

I sighed. "I guess I did make that promise too." Besides, it was a good opportunity to fix my mistakes.

"Hikki!" Yuigahama looked positively joyous. "Mmm! We'll definitely meet up soon."

"As long as it's not too soon." I chuckled and stood up. "Want me to walk you to the station? Oh wait, you're staying with Yukinoshita at her hotel, right? Want me drop you off there?"

"It's fine. I can get there," Yuigahama said softly as she brushed her clothing to get rid of the wrinkles. "I need to go somewhere else before. No wait, there's something we need to do first!"

"What? Use the bathroom? I wouldn't recommend our—"

"No, you idiot!" Yuigahama flushed and exclaimed. "Let's trade numbers! I can't let you run away from the Service Club Reunion." She held out her phone and pushed it repeatedly in my direction.

"Alright, alright." I surrendered my phone over to the brunette who entered her contact information onto my device with lightning fast speed.

With the process complete, Yuigahama shoved her phone into her pocket and started walking away. I was about to turn around and head back in myself, but I noticed her stop halfway up the courtyard unexpectedly and twirl around to face me.

"I'm glad Hikki hasn't changed!" She yelled before waving and ran away, hair fluttering in the wind. "See you later!"

I haven't changed?

My mind went numb as I saw Yuigahama's figure disappear, the low setting sun swallowing even her shadow. I turned on my heel sharply and begin walking back. I stopped by the bench we had just sat on, thoughts of Yuigahama and her words taking over my brain space. I kicked a pebble that was near my foot, watching in satisfaction as it hit the wall of the building and bounced off.

I haven't changed, huh?

Yeah, I can see that. She's right. Despite all the sins I had committed, all the lies I perpetrated, all the people I hadhurt knowingly: I couldn't improve. I couldn't change. I was still my old, pathetic self. And those six girls from the boat were just another testament to my inability to atone. In all these years, the only change was just that I got better at the things I swore against.

This Yuigahama was something different. Very different.

The most youthful one of us all, had perhaps the most change. She still had that pure basis, but now it was far more clear. The true Yuigahama Yui could be seen; no longer trying to fit in and she no longer had any need to engineer or fabricate a perception. She was just herself. And that was the most change I could imagine a person to undergo. So many things were new with her, new home, new memories, probably new friends as well. She even had a new dog.

Oh yeah, new dog. That's kind of important actually.

I paused to look up at the darkening sky. I see the first vestiges of the brightest stars in the Milky Way muscling their way through the dusk, wanting to be seen. I had the sudden realization that the catalyst for the formation of our club was no longer on this Earth. Those high school days we all cherished were long dead and gone, never to return. Just like poor old Sablé.

I don't even recall this Yuigahama saying 'Yahallo.'

 **Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**

References:

[1] Fate/Stay Night, Kotomine Kirei's infamous meme line "Rejoice, boy. Your wish shall be granted."

[2] A reference to Shakespere's "Macbeth." The titular character, Macbeth kills his friend Banquo in order to secure the kingship. Banquo's ghost later appears before Macbeth at a dinner, visible only to Macbeth. To the guests it looks as if King Macbeth is screaming at an empty chair.

 **Author's Note:**

 **This chapter introduces Yuigahama Yui. During the time that Hachiman was in Sri Lanka and Yukino was in England, Yui was going through her own life in Japan and undergoing her own changes. Yui to me is a character that Watari intended to use to prove that even the most common and generic person has depth should you get to know then. I don't particularly like her as a character, but I admire her resolution.**

 **I hope you liked the the Shakespeare reference, I nearly worship him.. I was originally a playwright, and it was the medium I received a vast majority of my formal training in writing from.**

 **One of my goals in this chapter was to express my own views of "growing up." Yui hasn't changed in the same way Hachiman and Yukino have. Yui had a much more mundane life after high school, but it still led to profound effects. Growing up, to me, is the accumulation of experiences and gaining different perspectives on the world. Yui didn't have to find herself like the other two, she simply learned more and let go of the teenage childishness and pretenses. She's more honest with herself because thats where her experiences have lead.**

 **-SouBU**

 **-SouBU**  
 **(Editors: XioKenji; Lord of Admirals 412; Xynovitch)**

 _Revision Log:  
_ _03/17/2020: Re-uploaded with overhaul of tenses and changes in word choice and sentence structure as well as major grammar fixes. Deleted portions of authors note that are now irrelevant._


	11. Convenient Conviviality

**Chapter 11: "Convenient Conviviality"**

Have you heard the story of Al Capone? The man they called 'Scarface?'

During the education segment of detective school, I had to read about him for the criminal history portion. And let me tell you, it was fascinating how utterly diabolical his entire operation was.

He was considered one of the greatest criminals and gangsters of all time. The man etched his name into history and legend with his schemes. Tales of his life and deeds spawned decades of movies and novels, practically making him a cultural icon. Al Capone was the zeitgeist of that era.

Al Capone started life as an immigrant who was a small time criminal in New York City. When he moved to Chicago and began his underground business, fate gave him a chance. In 1920, America passed the Prohibition Laws, which banned the creation, sale, and consumption of alcohol. The price of booze skyrocketed over night on the black market. What many saw as an illegal activity fraught with risks, Al Capone saw an opportunity to profit.

His claws grabbed onto everything around him. He used his booze sales to bribe politicians. The gangster also set up underground prostitution and gambling rings; the places of visit for those in the know and of deep pockets. Capone also kept tabs on police officers, noting how poorly they were paid and gave them some extra income in exchange for becoming informants.

The Mafia leader would influence elections by handpicking candidates that would best fit his agenda. And he made sure they won, going to the extent of waiting outside of ballot halls and checking every vote and 'persuading' votes to change their vote if things weren't up to snuff.

Good old racketeering. A classic.

The man was a criminal genius, and equally violent. Any and all resistances to his empire were taken out with prejudice. Rival gangs were massacred in carefully calculated plots weeks in advance. Al Capone was said to have paralyzed the justice system within Chicago. He had too many friends in too many places, and some in very high places. Enough money to influence a nation was going through his hands, an estimated yearly revenue stream of 1.4 billion US dollars.

So when he was caught by the FBI and sent to court, he must have had a list of charges that stretched to the moon, right?

Wrong.

Some of the greatest investigators in the world could not find the money and link it back to his crimes. They couldn't connect a single dollar of his nearly one and a half billion, to illegal activities. The most they could charge the kingpin with was tax evasion, which led to 11 years in jail. He basically got off scot free in comparison to the crimes he committed.

How did he do it? How did he hide that much money? Well you see, it involved cash only laundromats.

I breathed deeply. I was in the briefing room once more, and the Chief had news to share: a money trail had been found.

"After searching through the history of shipments we found one man who consistently paid for shipments to arrive on the scheduled days. Almost every payment, however, was in cash. Luckily for us, he slipped up and gave the last one in check. It paid for the group of containers that were around the ID tags of that one container that held the girls." The Chief said with a blank expression.

This was almost anti-climatic. Was this how a criminal masterplan was going to fall apart?

"It was linked back to the account of a man named Rokuro Goro."

An officer near the back raised a hand and called out. "Are we bringing him in for questioning?"

"That would be our next course of action." Admitted the Chief blandly. "Unfortunately, Rokuro died in a gang fight just a few months ago, days after the check was written and cashed."

The room broke out into whispers, and I raised an eyebrow and balanced my chair on its two back legs like a seesaw.

The plot thickens. [1]

"We've opened up his file and found that he had worked for a variety of companies. Most were foreign owned stock companies that were operating in Japan, but all were defunct." The Chief went off to list them out one by one.

Hold on, isn't this a bit much? How did one man work at this many places?

"His latest job was at a charity..." The Chief took a breath. "... located in the less savory parts of Shinjuku."

I nearly fell from my chair and the room went silent, as if we were at a party and someone made a suicide joke.

Drug dealings somehow related to kidnappings of young women from abroad? The man who paid for the shipping was dead in a gang fight right before a delivery of stolen girls? He had worked at a number of stock companies, and also a charity in the red light district?

Wait, this could only mean…!

Another detective in the room, who would now be regarded as an absolute hero, nervously asked the question on everyone's mind. "M-m-money laundering?"

The Chief nodded apologetically and confirmed sadly. "Money laundering."

A collective groan erupted in the room, as well as a few obtuse expletives I found myself agreeing vehemently with.

Allow me to explain:

Money laundering was the process of transforming illegally obtained capital into money that was legally generated. This was done by funnelling it through many different, legal businesses and companies.

The term descended from Al Capone's financial wizardry. He used a number of cash only laundromats to funnel his dirty money and create a 'source' for his wealth that was, for all intents and purposes, legal. The money then passed through so many hands that the FBI in America could not make heads nor tails of what money was legal and wasn't, with no way to find a trail. And thus, no way to associate Al Capone with the crimes everyone in the country knew he did.

For anyone in law enforcement, investigating money laundering was a cruel and unusual punishment. The money trails were numerous and led in all sorts of wild directions. It usually called for ridiculous amount of overtime hours where officers would try to solve the mystery of how the cash was moving.

It was the source of much frustration and hair pulling, as it was hard to differentiate legitimate businesses from front operations, and sometimes they were both. In addition, people did not cooperate with investigations, and search warrants were hard to come by.

It was mentally exhausting to say the least. In the end we normally solve the case when someone within the scheme messing up rather than actually tracing back the source. It was a thankless job that seemingly only existed to create crazy stories that officers would trade over drinks.

"Hikigaya, Shiba!" Ordered the Chief. "I want you to go check out this charity. Other teams will be assigned to investigate the addresses of the other publicly traded stock companies."

Δ▼Δ

 _Welcome back everyone, this is the news at the top of the hour on Tokyo Radio._

 _The biggest story: Prime Minister Kinzo Nabe visited the refugee camps earlier today, amidst reports that refugee children are being separated from their parents by JSDF soldiers. The story was broken by VOX, when the online news site interviewed migrants and were told harrowing tales of their missing children. [2]_

 _"I implore our people and the JSDF: we must work together to reunite families," said the Prime Minister to reporters when his convoy had arrived at the beaches on the Nono-Honto Peninsula._

 _The visit is one stop among many on the tour hosted by non-profit organization, Sora Hospital for Refugees and affiliated charities. The tour was intended to raise awareness of the humanitarian crisis in the SEA. Prime Minister Kinzo took the time to personally serve food for the impoverished and malnourished. He also inspected the state of emigrant camps, dismayed at the dehumanizing conditions these people lived in._

 _"The way they are living is difficult to accept. That even in modern times people must endure afflictions we had thought outdated and inhumane, all the while being thousands of miles from home. They are our fellow Asians— no before that, they are our fellow humans. The very idea of supporting one another is ingrained in our culture and language." [3]_

 _With the Conservatives and Progressives embroiled in competition for the seat of Prime Minister, Kinzo took the opportunity to create a bill to begin accepting low numbers of asylum seekers. It is being spearheaded by the Moderate party in legislation, many pundits expect it to just barely pass._

 _With the current state of affairs, the government has become increasingly polarized and…_

I switched off the car radio, and looked at the charity we were supposed to investigate in Shinjuku. From inside the car, I could see that it has an old school look to it. With a two-tone facade of golden yellow and light beige, with a black line to separate the two colors. A bit of rust here and there, but it had a homey look to it. The only problem was...

"Hey Shiba, you see a charity building anywhere?"

"... Senpai, why can't I drive my own car?"

"Because you drive like my grandmother does right now. And she's dead."

"I just bought it though…" Shiba whimpered from the passenger's seat.

"Look, Shiba. I don't get why you're stressing." I gave him a pointed look. "It's not like four-door Nissan Skylines are that expensive nowadays."

My partner looked like he was going to cry.

I decided to ignore the man-child and continued with my observation.

You see, the issue with the building was that there was no charity signage on an office building to let me know that I was here. In fact, there was no office building to begin with. At the address where Rokuro Goro had said he worked as an accountant at a charity, stood a laundromat.

No matter how I sliced it, something was off. The laundromat was open, so there was only one thing to do. I stepped out of the car, with Shiba scrambling after me. We entered the laundromat cautiously, the instant my shoe makes contact with the tiles a deep voice called out to me.

"Can I help you gentlemen?"

My eyes turn to look at the source. He was tall, lean, and visibly muscular. His hair was cut haphazardly, as if he had taken a hunting knife and just sliced off the offending parts. It was crude, but had this wild look to it. He wore a purple dress shirt underneath a black vest with intricate patterns. It hugged his pectorals and his shirt was folded at the sleeves, revealing toned forearms. Ashen gray pants were completed with smart looking brown shoes.

The pants fit him perfectly. Probably tailored.

"I'm Detective Hikigaya, with Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. This is my partner, Detective Shiba," I said smoothly, pulling out a badge. Shiba does the same.

The man passed a careful eye over our identifications of profession. He looked me in the eyes before speaking, "My name is Kazuya Ryunosuke, I am the owner of this laundromat. How can I help you, detective?"

A skewed truth that pricks would be the best answer to get a feel for Kazuya's personality.

"We're investigating a suspicious charity that has been handing out false donations to the poor. We're suspecting embezzlement." I explained. "We came to check out their facility, but it seems they may have been using Kazuya-san's laundromat's address."

The unexpected happens, Kazuya's face set into stone. His eyes and mouth didn't waver, as if they had been sculpted into marble.

I could already tell I wasn't going to get a thing out of this man easily. If anything at all.

The man brought a hand to his chin in thought. "I understand why you're here, detective. I have had some strange letters to this establishment in the past, but I usually gave it to the postman so it could be returned back to the sender. I've never really thought much of it."

A bulletproof deflection. Almost a work of art: it's logical and believable, and I couldn't readily prove it false. Evidence is likely impossible to get, even if I wanted to refute.

"I see. Do you mind if my partner and I take a look around? So I could go back to my Chief and say that I at least tried."

I just wanted to get some sort of reaction out of him. I fully expected him to kick us out. It was a no brainer, I hadn't mentioned any search warrants. Unsurprisingly, he remained stone-faced.

Surprisingly, he was gracious in his response. "That's fine. I can even let you take a look at the back rooms and office."

What? I was caught off guard. What was he up to?

The laundromat had few people, but a few machines were turning away. The place had dust at its corners, but looks relatively clean regardless. A normal example of a neighborhood laundromat.

So why couldn't I believe it?

We followed Kazuya into the laundromat and I see a few women in spaghetti straps, undershirts, and shorts milling around. They were throwing clothing in washing machines and dryers. Judging by the way they walked, and the slight redness I can see around their wrists and neck, they were probably prostitutes.

There were a few men in as well, wearing similar clothing to Kazuya, but less composed and clean. They looked like thugs, and the way they glared at me before averting their eyes basically gave them away. They were yakuza.

None of this was damning, considering the type of people who frequented Shinjuku. And my case wasn't directly about the pimping going on in this district. But still… it made some part of my stomach curdle a bit.

Kazuya leads us to the back rooms, which were just concrete boxes, not even painted. There were windows with rebars, but no glass. They faced a small courtyard between buildings. It housed the normal materials a laundromat would need: blue bottles of detergent; bottles of neon orange fabric softener and stain removing formulas.

And that was strange.

"Shiba, go back to the car and get it warmed up." I threw him the keys. "I'll be out in a sec."

"Senpai, I can't just leave you alone!"

"If you go now, I'll let you drive back." Those seem to be the magic words, as Shiba reluctantly scurried off.

Kazuya then took me to the office. It was a small place with wooden walls and a single desk that had a computer and was flanked by chairs. The size of what I saw from the inside matched the size of the building from the outside, lowering the chances of there being a hidden room in the facility.

"Are you military?"

Kazuya suddenly spoke breaking me out of my thoughts.

"How did—?"

Kazuya chuckled, a sound that reminded me of rolling thunder. [4] "I used to be military too. You know how to clear a room, pretty telling stuff. You 'sliced the pie' along every opening, doorway, and window. Footsteps were measured and short, you made sure that your leading foot didn't go too far past a corner to compromise your position."

He leaned back against the wall of the office. "Guessing you were infantry? I would say you were the dedicated marksman by the way you tended to hold the longer sightlines. I wasn't sure because of how young you seem."

"Well, your guess is pretty much it." I scratched the back of my head. "I was Ground Forces. First Division, 32nd Infantry Regiment. Dedicated marksmen of my squad, loved that M24 to death. And I got my own hypothesis too: are you Special Forces?"

"Oh?" It was his turn to be surprised. "What gave it away?"

I shrugged. "The way you set up the laundromat. There's no way to discreetly plant a bomb or hide anything in the facility that wouldn't be obviously visible. And the way you walk and angle your body, its to make it easier for the second man on your team to take a shot if you spotted a target. Probably urban warfare training? I guess you were pointman. Oh yeah, you also have the greatest poker-face I have ever seen. I would hazard that you got anti-torture training as part of a counterterrorism force."

"You got a good eye," said Kazuya, looking at me with a different expression. I wanted to say it was respect. "I was SFG, stationed at the garrison in Narashino." [5]

My eyes widened. "What a coincidence, I grew up in Chiba."

Kazuya sighed wistfully. "I loved Chiba's atmosphere. I'm going to miss those peanuts when they're in season."

I stood in awe. This man... this man understood! The greatness of Chiba, the cozy air that only comes from a perfect mix of residential and commercial areas to form a harmony of culture and togetherness. What is this beating in my heart? Is it natural? Just wild beat, communication? [6] Was this how someone knew that another human being will be their best friend!?

"Hey, uh." Kazuya called out to me, an uncomfortable look on his face. "Your eyes kinda look like you've been through some tough times. I've seen it on other guys' and vets' faces before, the ones that came back from their tour of duty in the SEA."

In books and in movies, soldiers shared this idyllic brotherhood: a sense of trust of having served a single goal with their lives on the line. It's usually played as an emotional crux, that two soldiers can just talk and solve their emotional hang-ups and move on.

Exaggerated and sensational as it may be, there's a grain of truth to it. A soldier's perspective was designed to be the same as that of his fellow soldier. A fellow soldier would understand the complicated emotions of battle, and its interplay with the loyalty you held to your squad.

"We were in Sri Lanka, with the UN." I started. "Active combat. Just two JSDF platoons, including my own."

"The odds were bad, huh?" His voice was even, but contained a level of empathy I could physically feel.

I nodded. "The first attack came at night. Wiped out the lot of the UN forces, the Sergeant of the other platoon was killed then. Our LT went missing when he went on recon. Solo. I ended up taking control of the remaining troops, all 9 of them."

I took a shaky breath. "I went a little overboard against the enemy, when we fought our way out."

Kazuya nodded, and his action was enough for me to know that he understood what I meant by my brief summary.

"It was messy," I said. "It took a year, but I managed to make it out with my of my team. We only lost 2 guys. The other platoon was dissolved. The two UN platoons? Only three people came out in total."

"Rough stuff."

"When I got back island-side, I was court martialed. They knew why I did it, but they had to make an example of me to the rest of the UN. To show that Japan followed the rules. They let me go, but as soon as I got back to the barracks they gave me the papers. An 'honorable' discharge, saying I went crazy so I wasn't combat viable."

With my story over, Kazuya walked over and places a hand on my shoulder. Which was all I needed. He understood. He understood the mental trauma. The nightmares. All of that, through a single pat on my person.

"I was actively deployed around that time too," said Kazuya. "To the Philippines to help the government fight terrorists. A lot of my guys snapped, because of the constant guerilla attacks. They couldn't sleep or eat in peace. Eventually we got into a routine of eating, patrolling, shooting, and trying to sleep with a gun in hand. Their nerves were shot. When we got back home, two of them committed suicide within the week. One left behind two children and a wife."

His hand gripped my shoulder a little tighter. "I'm not going to pretend and say everything will be okay, or that you'll get 'fixed'. But you should be glad that you got your guys home." He let his hand go.

"... I'll tell the Chief as I saw things. It's unlikely, but we may be back to get an official testimony from you in the future, Kazuya-san."

"That's fine. And thank you for the conversation."

"Likewise… thanks."

Δ▼Δ

"I want a stake out on the laundromat," I said to the men who sat before me. "Even though the store looked clean, and it just had a spotty customer base, I'm pretty sure its frequented by Yakuza. We can't trust it, and we shouldn't trust it.

The Chief, Hiura, Shiba, and I were gathered in one of the conference rooms, sitting around the desk at odd intervals of missing chairs. A horrible rendition of musical chairs to the tune of a Waggaki cover, if I had to guess.

Hiura raised an eyebrow. "What made you think so?"

"Shiba, what did you notice in the laundromat?" I called out to my partner.

Shiba contemplates for a moment before he begins to answer. "There were women who were washing clothes in the main part of the store. They looked like prostitutes to me."

"I would agree. Anything else?"

"I have to concur with Senpai on the Yakuza observation. I'm pretty sure I saw the start of a tattoo climbing up one of their necks."

"Did you notice anything else? Particularly the backroom?"

"I don't think so. Looked like the normal stuff a laundromat would carry. Bags of soap, some bottles of fabric softener, the usual stuff."

"Well, it's exactly because of those goods that we should be suspicious."

"Get to the point Hikigaya." The Chief interjected. "I can't approve anything if you're going to go all Socratic-method on me."

"I'm getting to it." Knocked off my groove, I took a second to gather my thoughts. "Okay, so the laundromat only had one type of blue bottle for sale, everything else was orange. And I mean everything: all other bags and bottles were this neon-orange. That's the smoking gun."

The three men give me blank stares.

"Come on guys, this is middle school color theory," I said impatiently. "The color wheel? You know how complement colors were said to be the most standout pair? Most contrasting?"

They shared glances with one another, having no clue where I was leading this conversation. I exhaled heavily in exasperation. Philistines, the lot of them. I'm surrounded by cavemen.

"They're trying to to make the blue bottles really stand out." I clapped my hands together as an idea to better illustrate my point pops in my head. "Ok, let's have a thought experiment. Hypothetically say that the Yakuza run a hypothetical laundromat."

"Okay…?" Hiura tilted his head to the side in confusion. "But aren't we pretty sure that it is?"

"Roll with me here. Let's say this hypothetical Yakuza driven laundromat hypothetically wants to smuggle out hypothetical illegal drugs, like Class 1 substances. You know, the normal things a criminal syndicate would do. And hypothetically assume this hypothetical criminal syndicate with a familial hierarchy hide their hypothetical drugs within laundry soaps and detergents. What's the biggest point of failure in this hypothetical plan?"

Shiba's eyes widened as he connected the dots, as expected of my partner. "The people distributing the bottles!"

"Exactly. Yakuza goons aren't the smartest people, so if you're a Yakuza boss, you want to dumb down the instructions as much as possible and reduce risk. By using complement colors you highly minimize the chance of a worker grabbing the wrong battle and handing it out. Blue is always easier to spot among orange"

"So the stakeout…" Trailed off the Chief.

"As I said, that was all hypothetical." I leaned back, my chair creaking ominously. "We can't prove anything right now. But a stakeout might give us some insight, and hopefully, some new leads."

Δ▼Δ

I had just gotten out of the office when I got a surprise call from Shizuka. She wanted to treat me to dinner, and gave me the location of a restaurant we frequented. Apparently she had a friend coming.

I drove over and quickly found her car sunbathing out in the parking lot. I parked my car next to hers, the Aston Martin suddenly looking mundane next to the German _'wunderwagon'_ that belonged to Shizuka and attracted all sorts of eyes.

As befitting her personality (and ironic when considering her name) it had a 'loud' color to it. The 'Racing Yellow' paint job on her Porsche Cayman GT4 could be seen from a passing airliner, that's how much it shone. Like a beacon in the daylight. How was a subdued wine red car supposed to compete?

Finding her at the restaurant was easy, since the older woman had taken a table outside.

"Yo." I greeted quietly and take a seat.

"Hey there." She nodded and looked at her watch. "She should be here any moment now."

"Ah! Shizuka!" Called out a familiar feminine voice cheerfully. Coming down the sidewalk towards us now was the government lawyer that represented Tokyo, Yukinoshita Haruno. She was clad in jeans and a baby blue button up with white bird prints.

"Haruno! It's been some time, hasn't it?" Shizuka sood up and wrapper her former student in a hug. I looked on apathetically, wondering how I had let myself get caught in this scenario. Two beautiful women they may be, but both are equally capable of destroying me; one physically, the other emotionally. I blamed my sense of obligation towards Shizuka.

"I heard you got married!?" Asked Haruno excitedly as she took a seat next to me. I grimaced as I realize that it's closer than most would sit. I could already tell how this meal was going to go.

"Yep!" Shizuka folded her arms across her chest and with a triumphant expression. "To a man few can match, and I can be proud of!"

Congratulations Chief, you're a trophy husband. Things could be worse, I guess.

"I'm so happy for you!" Haruno clapped her hands and gave me a glance. I looked back at her questioningly, but she only winked before returning her attention back to Shizuka. "I'm out of the loop! What's been going on with you?"

The two adult women chatted away catching up on the years they were apart, and I took that as my opportunity to tune out of the conversation. I waved to the waiter and whispered to him that I wanted a cup of coffee. My eyes passed over my tablemates as the waiter leaves to collect my drink. I watched as they spoke to one another expressively, with gestures and nods. Their eyes were bright with joy and lips curling into smiles and laughs. I think they were talking about some topic on the Tokyo education system, since Rumi was mentioned in passing.

Shizuka had grown calmer and more at peace over the years, the anxiety and pain of being single dissipating with a stable relationship where she felt supported and loved. If she had motherly traits back during my teenage, now she was definitely a full blown maternal figure. Evidenced by how she looked at Haruno with warmth.

The lawyer wasn't wearing her trademark mask, but something that I could only describe as the hesitance a freed animal showed. Her slender fingers picked at the menu that lay on the table when she was asked certain questions, and I could only wonder how she was undertaking life currently. Things change, and so had these two. I let myself lose focus when Haruno called over the waiter at some point so we could relay our orders.

My coffee had finally arrived, along with a small plate that had packets of sugar, cream, and a stirrer. I carefully poured in the appropriate amount of dairy and slowly shook in a few spoonfuls of the sweetener before stirring rhythmically.

"... how was it?" Shizuka asked gently, the strange tone of her voice attracting my attention. I stopped my mixing and slowly brought the cup to my lips, the smell of coffee permeated my mouth and nose. Not too sweet, not too bitter. Just right.

"Oh, you know... the usual." Haruno gave an indecisive smile. I've seen it before, hell, I've had it before. The smile where you're not sure if this happiness is real or not. "Lots of therapy. Lots of talking. Lots of... deep talking. Telling each other what our dreams were. It took time but... I can say I love being with my family now."

"That's good. Time is all you need." The somber expression Shizuka had worn transformed into a maleficent smile as she turns towards me. Our eyes met before I could look away and avoid this confrontation. "Even heartbreak can be healed with time, can't it? Hachiman?"

"I don't like what you're implying." I huffed, taking another sip before putting down my cup. "And I'm still mad at you, by the way." I smacked my lips for good measure.

"For what? Sending your old flame over?" Shizuka grinned and leaned over, her words quiet enough to go unheard by the people around us, but clearly processed by our guest. My body went cold as Haruno's face twitched in surprise and looked at me in shock.

A growl came out of my throat. "I'm going to kill yo—"

"Oh my? Is this a scoop? Hot news?" Haruno interrupted me, her head swapping between Shizuka and I with curiosity abound. "Was my Yukino-chan to be as so bold to go to a man's house? Ho ho ho, Hikigaya-kun I see even Morimi-chan can't satisfy you."

"Stop describing it like some hentai. Please." And what did Secretary-chan have anything to do with this?

"How else am I supposed to think of a man and a woman all alone in a house?"

"Consider it from this angle: many of the great Greek philosophers were single, some even platonic to the n-th degree. Perhaps I am among their number?"

"But you know, Hikigaya-kun," Haruno said thoughtfully. "Aristotle said that household was the most basic unit of the state, and a household requires man and woman. You should really reconsider going stag."

I snorted and looked to my side. "He also required the family unit to have a slave. And it's not like he said I have to get married or anything, right? Komachi is all I need. Besides his idea of a society is too simple."

"What makes you say that Hachiman?" Shizuka peered at me with narrowed skeptical narrowed eyes. "I remember you saying understood all of society and its shallow depth back during your high school career. Gave you a failing grade for that essay too.

I coughed into my hand awkwardly. "W-well, stupidity of youth aside, society is just people coming together to increase the odds of survival, right?"

"That definition is missing a bit of nuance, but it's correct for the most part." Haruno hummed as she supported her cheek with a hand.

"Then it's simple." I twirled the stirrer between my fingers. "To have society all you need to do is fulfill the needs of humans."

"So, food, water, shelter, warmth, and rest?" Haruno asked.

"I was thinking more along the lines of lust, gluttony, greed, and sloth myself."

Shizuka sighed deeply, disappointment evident. "What are we going to do with you?"

"What?" I asked, ruffled like a bothered hen.

"You just described the seven deadly sins as being the needs of humans!" The married woman exclaimed, irritation growing.

"Fine, fine fine. I'll give a real answer." I waved my arms at her. "So to build a society you need laws; law enforcement; and currency. Rules all members submit to. The confidence that those rules will be enforced. And currency so everyone can trade. You can consider currency to be its own language, I guess. The one language everyone in a society can speak with."

"Interesting take on money." Haruno commented.

"Why, thank you." I'm honestly surprised she would compliment me like that.

"But you know you can't get out of talking about Yukino-chan that easily, you know?"

Should have known.

Something got caught in my throat, but miraculously I managed to talk my way through it. "The point was that I don't need to get married or be in a relationship to be part of the state. Society is fine with my loner self as long as I can talk with money. So stop harassing me."

I felt a sharp pain in my midriff as Haruno's fist makes contact with my rib. "Hikigaya-kun, don't you know that when a girl bothers you, it means she likes you?"

I offered her the most lifeless stare I was capable of. "I could really do with less liking. Really."

"Alright you two, cut it out." Shizuka chastised us tiredly. "Let him die alone for all we care."

"... although, Yukinoshita-san, your words might have some value." An evil grin grew on my creepy face. "Shizuka must have really liked the Chief. Bothered him so much she fractured his rib once, if I'm not mistaken. And here they are, married."

The effect was instant: Shizuka's face erupted into red and her eyes contained the fury of a thousand suns. "You bastard! Get ready punk, I'll pummel you into obliv—!"

I was saved by the arrival of our meals by the server, which promptly muzzled my old high school teacher and saved me from a swift death by blunt force trauma. As the plates are placed before us, I can't help but stare out at food for a few moments, watching as the steam wafts up. Something in me stirred and I resisted the urge to eat. I looked up and saw that Shizuka had started to cut into her own meal, but Haruno is looked at me strangely.

"... yes?" I asked my district attorney with a bit of suspicion.

Haruno opened her mouth but is interrupted by Shizuka's flat voice. "Haruno, your food is going to get cold. Eat."

The elder Yukinoshita sister looked bewildered and traded some strange glances with Shizuka. Something must have been communicated silently because Haruno slowly picked up her own chopsticks and began to eat. I raised an eyebrow at the bizarre exchange, but said nothing and picked up some pasta with my fork. I tried to ignore it, but I couldn't shake the feeling that Haruno stared at me throughout dinner.

When we finished eating and settled the bill, Shizuka and I separated from Haruno, as we were headed in opposite directions.

"I'll see you at work then, Hikigaya-kun!" She called out, with glee that felt hollow and forced. Did I do something wrong? The worry must have been evident on my face, because Shizuka patted my back comfortingly.

"Nothing to worry about, she's just a bit off right now," Shizuka said firmly. "It's not about you."

I only nodded and let her lead me down the block towards the parking lot. The walk was quiet, and I fell into step alongside Shizuka. The sun had begun to droop and colored the sky with streaks of orange that was being slowly encroached by the purple of the night. The daylight hours were becoming shorter with the passing of the solstice just a few days prior, and would continue until the winter. It was a depressing thought, but also comforting. Time would always march on, and I had to as well.

My ringtone began to play, causing Shizuka to tilt her head curiously at me. I took out my cell phone, and saw that the caller ID had the incoming number as 'Unknown Caller.' It could be a telemarketer, but I rarely put my phone number down anywhere for that to be a realistic guess. I slid the on screen button over, accepting the call.

"Hello?" I asked uncertainly.

"Higashiya? That you?" A deep and smooth male voice spoke to me in a foreign language.

"Min-san, it's been a while." I responded, switching to a fluent Mandarin. Shizuka raised an eyebrow at my words.

"So it has. Word on the street is that Tokyo PD is looking into Ouma Daichi and drug trafficking."

"News travels fast." I didn't ask questions about where or how he had found this information. Ignorance is blissful safety, it also went a long way in ensuring that your informant wouldn't spill your info to others.

"I just keep my ear to the ground more often than not. You free to talk?"

"I'm about 5 minutes away from my car."

I gave an apologetic look to Shizuka, who shook her head. She stepped backward with a worried look and mouthed to me, "Be careful!" I nodded and watched as she walked ahead of me.

"What's going on?" I asked into the phone.

"Got something I want you to hear."

"Let me get to someplace more secure then. You want me to call you? Or are you going to call me?"

"Your side safe?"

"Probably not."

"I'll call you in exactly 5 minutes, I have encryption."

With that the line cut and I made a beeline for the parking lot. Shizuka's Porsche was gone, leaving my Aston Martin by its lonesome. I opened the door and slid into the driver's seat. The door shut and sealed me off from the outside world, signaled by the abrupt reduction in noise. Like clockwork, my phone rang again exactly at 5 minutes from when Min said. He skipped the pleasantries and cut to the chase.

"I got a guy who wants protection. And he wants it from the government. He's got some pretty good intel that might interest you regarding Ouma. Can you stop by the shop?"

"You'll contact me with the date and time?"

"Of course."

"I'll be there."

"I knew you would. By— oh, yeah. Good luck with your trial next week." The line went quiet as it disconnected from his end.

I blinked several times. I wasn't even aware that it next week yet. Not unexpected, but how did he know?

 **Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**

References:

[1] Reference to "The Rehearsal" a satirical play from 1671 by George Villiers aimed to rebel against the standards John Dryden had set for literature in England. The plot of the play revolves around the cast of characters making their own play (a play within a play). The Second Duke of Buckingham comments in satisfaction "Ay, now the plot thickens very much upon us" when describing how his play's narrative becomes convoluted.

This could be considered one of the first types of self-aware humor gags that the post-modern art movement has similar characteristics with.

[2] Based on the controversial events at the US-Mexico border where it was discovered that children of Mexican migrants we're being separated from their parents. It was a huge humanitarian blunder for the US that made made headlines over the world.

[3] The kanji ideograms for people ("hito"/ひと) is 人, which is said to be a representation of two people supporting one another. The character is included for the kanji for "individual" [個人 (kojin)]; "mankind/humans" [人類 (jinrui), 人間 (ningen)]; and for "character/personality" [人格 (jinkaku), 人柄 (hitogara)].

[4] "Rolling thunder" is a reference to Operation Rolling Thunder, which was a lengthy bombing campaign by US 2nd Air Division against North Vietnam during the Vietnam War. My use here is referring to both the literal sound of a thunderstorm and the military version.

[5] Narashino is a city in Chiba Prefecture.

[6] A reference to the opening of Gundam Wing: "Just Communication" by Two-Mix.

 **Author's Note:**

 **Some more world building, some more other stuff. The usual. I hope you enjoyed the conversation bit with Shizuka, Haruno, and Hachiman. It was fun to write. There was a bit of foreshadowing as well. The dynamic between Shizuka and Hachiman is a zany cross of mother/son and sibling hijinks. I hope you enjoyed it.**

 **-SouBU**  
 **(Editors: XioKenji; Lord of Admirals 412; Xynovitch; TheMightyZingy)**

 _Revision Log:  
_ _03/17/2020: Re-uploaded with overhaul of tenses and changes in word choice and sentence structure as well as major grammar fixes._


	12. Beholden Reparations

**Chapter 12: Beholden Reparations**

 _"Yesterday, on prime time American television, the President of the United States spoke to the citizens of one of the largest nations in the world during the State of the Union Address. With the economic recession nearly subsiding, the President seemed optimistic of America's status in the world, assuring his populace that 'America is still the leader of the free world.'_

 _Many contend that the President was referring to the recent economic report released by the World Economic Forum that made the claim that America was in hegemonic decline and that another actor was to soon rise as the hedgemont as we head into a new decade._

 _"The patriotic words were soon followed by a more controversial speech: calling the men and women of his nation to action. He described the plight of the Philippines, which had fallen into the chaos of civil war as anti-government and vehemently anti-American forces had occupied the capital. The rest of the island nation similarly was engulfed in the flames of combat. The President told of his desire to aid their ally in that chaotic environment, 'to keep democracy alive even in the middle of this SEA crisis.'_

 _His pleas seemed to have it's intended effect, with recent polls showing support for armed intervention in the Filipino conflict rising to over 62% from last month's 48%._

 _"With Korea joining the Asia-Pacific Defense Commission along with Japan, Australia, and the now failing Philippines, tensions between China and America have become even more strained. In addition, Malaysia has agreed to host new American naval bases, the western country making it clear that they wish to continue projecting power in the Asian-Pacific region._

 _"Such a move had garnered an extreme response from China, who had quickly recalled all diplomats from America and issuing the statement: 'If the intentions of the United States of America are not clear, we will see this as hostile action near our borders and a threat to our sovereignty.'_

 _As of this morning, the White House has sent official word, claiming that they are simply working towards helping their ally which was in the midst of a civil war. They further cited humanitarian efforts as well as supporting the United Nations Declaration of Human rights._

 _"This has done enough to reopen a diplomatic line to Beijing, but the world sits with baited breath for the next blunder or incorrect word to ignite hostilities between the world's two major powers."_

The train came to a stop, the application of the brakes causing the car to vibrate and shake as its forward momentum was slowed, signaling that it had arrived at the station. I reached up and removed the headphones from my ears and pocketed my phone before standing up. The world wasn't going to get any better from me watching news reels on my social media feed.

The doors to the train car opened, and the phenomena of human osmosis took hold. People walked out of the train just a few moments before the cars was filled with men and women once more. I stood on the concrete platform, just an observer to the process. Each face of every person had a unique shape and characteristic, and also held unique emotions that they were experiencing at that very moment.

So many people move through here every day.

Did they worry about the things on the news?

Was it just gossip to them?

Was it just a buzz in the background of their lives?

I wonder what they think about, and why they find it important.

How much do they really worry about others?

Are there some things they just cannot help but do or think?

What do they believe in?

Does everyone believe in that?

Would it be worth believing in something everyone does?

Is that religion?

Is that what morality is?

Does morality count intention?

What are the intentions of the sea of people before me?

What are their convictions?

Where do they draw that line in the sand?

How do they draw their line?

What makes people do good things?

What makes people do bad things?

What makes a good person?

What makes a bad person?

 _What am I?_

Δ▼Δ

"Would you be alright with talking about your past campaign?" Yukinoshita had asked before we began. "I'm aware some soldiers don't like to do so."

"I can handle that." I had sounded far more sure of myself than I had felt.

The air in the courtroom was more stifling and oppressive than ever before. Tension diffused like gasoline throughout every corner. I had the sudden worry that if someone lit a match the entire building would go up in a ball of flames.

Even the simple act of breathing felt excruciating. Yukinoshita on the other hand, remained unfazed. She sat to my side with a grace and poise befitting royalty, as if nothing in the world could shake her impeccable composure. I envied that assured confidence of hers.

I glanced at her, but she was looking elsewhere. Her head was toward the crowd. My eyes followed her line of sight and I'm momentarily distracted by an overly bright orange... thing... in the crowd. I squinted and saw a young man sitting in a neon orange hoodie, looking at me and smiling strangely. My eyes widened when I noticed a hole through his forehead. I blinked in shock and when my eyes reopened, he was gone. Before I could search the room once more, the Judge walked into the chamber. The sound of chairs being pushed back echoed throughout the chamber as we we all rise and bow, taking our seats once more when the judge allows us. With the appropriate words, the court was finally in session.

As she had said, Yukinoshita called me to the witness stand as soon as the session had begun and asked me to explain the circumstances behind my torturing charges.

"Detective Hikigaya, what happened during your service?"

"... after I had finished basic training, I was deployed to aid the UN Peacekeeping Forces." My voice had a lifeless tone to it, reflecting my emotional state at the moment. "It was becoming common practice, the JSDF wanted its forces to gain some live combat experience. I was a year out of high school at that time. My squad was to do service in Sri Lanka, during the civil war that exploded there. We were told to protect the villages and villagers in an area from both sides of the conflict."

I inhaled shakily and had to break eye contact when I couldn't handle Yukinoshita's blue orbs' piercing gaze. "In hindsight, we should have realized something would go wrong. There was a lack of personnel and gear. We didn't think much of it then. No one thought we would be attacked. After all, why attack UN or extranational soldiers that were here to protect the populace? I guess it was this train of thought that had us under equipped and under-prepared to hold off a full on assault. No one expected the enemy to attack and risk an international incident…"

My words trailed off and a stiffness permeated the room, every living being doing their best to emulate being dipped in amber.

"... what happened next?" Yukinoshita beckoned quietly.

"... it happened. They attacked," I said straightforwardly, but beneath the stand's counter my hands were shaking and I clasped them together to stop the tremors from moving to my body. "The village we were protecting was attacked in cold blood in the middle of the night. Many villagers died… as did the guys from my peacekeeping team. When the morning came we realized just how screwed we were. Our access to supply lines and reinforcements were blocked. We were stuck in a situation where we had limited food, limited ammunition, no intel, and knew that surrendering would lead to us being executed."

"Is this what led to your actions?"

I nodded slowly, swallowing dryly as images from that time played back through my head. The night where nearly everything ended. Nothing concrete, just flashes on a film reel, but each snapshot still made me recall those emotions in their entirety. Compressed bursts magnitudes stronger than the sum, like the pain of a thousand pinpricks being squeezed into a single feeling akin to being stabbed with a searing knife.

"We began to capture soldiers and extract information. To secure access to supplies essential for survival for the villagers and for ourselves. It took a year for us to get to a UN safe zone and get evacuated."

"Was there anything else you could have done?" Yukinoshita asked me softly. In the quiet courtroom it traveled to everyone's ears easily.

"Objection your honor! Relevancy!" Exclaimed the Prosecutor.

"Overruled," says the Judge without blinking.

"But your honor…!"

The Judge fixes him a tough glare. As if trying to say that she let him get his few questions in, and he had to play fair.

"In my opinion…" I started, flexing my wrists and gripping the fabric of my pants. "... there was nothing else to be done."

Yukinoshita nodded and said she has no further questions. The Prosecution similarly said that they have no questions to ask. I walked back to my seat and see Yukinoshita trade glances with a man in the crowd, whose face was now visible to me from this angle. The black haired woman stood unflinchingly before the judged and announced.

"I would like to call Hidetaka Jun to the witness stand."

Murmurs could be heard around the previously silent courtroom. My mouth hung open. Hidetaka Jun? As in _the_ Colonel Hidetaka Jun who had headed my old regiment? I'm absolutely shocked, how did she manage to get him, a Colonel of all things, to come to civilian court!?

The Colonel was probably in his 50's. He looked older than I last remembered him, his immaculately trimmed beard and hair having grayed significantly. His medal covered uniform was stiff, not a single crease to be seen. It was most likely completely covered in starch when it was ironed, a trick every cadet learns to avoid the ire of the drill sergeant during surprise inspections.

The Colonel is sworn in and Yukinoshita strided forward to begin the questioning. "Could you please state your name, rank, and association with my client?"

The Colonel nodded his head politely. "Of course. My name is Hidetaka Jun. Colonel of the 32nd infantry regiment of the JSDF forces. The regiment Detective Hikigaya had previously belonged to."

"Colonel Hidetaka, were you at the court martial of my client, Hikigaya Hachiman?"

"I was indeed present." The Colonels voice was as solid as always, and deep like I would imagine a grandfather's voice to be.

"What was your role in the court martial?"

"I was on the tribunal for that event."

"Would you agree with Hikigaya-san's assessment that he had no other choice in that conflict?"

"Yes, I would," he said resolutely, his voice holding some sort of force that stilled the hearts of all in the room. "In times of war, when lives of both the innocent and his fellow soldiers were on the line, survival leaves very little in the way of options. The actions Hikigaya-san had taken were, in my opinion, the best for the crisis he was in."

My eyes widened. The Colonel was part of the tribunal, but the hard set look he had then didn't seem in anyway indicative of what he was saying now. Did he always feel that way?

Could I hope?

"What are your impressions of Hikigaya-san's personality and character?" Yukinoshita asked with a gesture.

"Hikigaya-san's sergeants and lieutenants have said that he was a quiet person. He tended to keep to himself and focus on his work, creating consistent results. But he was always looking out for his squad mates, even without them knowing. He had the makings of an ideal platoon leader in the future. I could easily see him becoming a lieutenant, if things happened differently.

"I'm ashamed that the JSDF took so long to support our fellow Japanese brothers-in-arms that were trapped on enemy land. We ultimately forced Hikigaya-san to do what he did. During the court martial, Hikigaya-san had claimed that he had committed all the atrocities himself, despite how ridiculous it was to believe for any reasonable onlooker. I respect him for his decision, and I think it speaks to the strength of his person: that he was willing to take on all the consequences because he placed the lives of those he wanted to protect before his own. I wish we could have more soldier's like Hikigaya-san. "

Hidetaka's eyes turned to me. An indescribable feeling filled me at being acknowledged. "I have to apologize to you, Hikigaya-dono. I wasn't able to express it then, but I wish to offer you my deepest apologies to the foot soldier who was there for their military, but the military was not there for him. We have broken a soldier who had potential."

Then he did the unthinkable. Colonel Hidetaka stood up from the witness stand and bowed. To me, who was a lowly tin soldier. [1]

Authority was necessary in the military. It kept the cogs and gears of the giant machine of soldiers, commanders, mechanics, chefs, everyone, in order and running like a well oiled machine. Because when all hell breaks loose, it was authority that brought stability, and allowed people to keep ranks and maintain an effective fighting force. The chain of command was paramount, and must never be perverted.

As a result, any instance of a high-ranked officer demeaning himself, such as by bowing to the rank-and-file was unprecedented. Unheard of. Unimaginable. To admit he did something wrong would destroy that man's authority.

But Colonel Hidetaka did so. He apologized to this run-of-the-mill and broken toy-soldier known as Hikigaya Hachiman.

I was about to stand up and bow in return, but I was frozen in place when my eyes met Yukinoshita's. They were wet and stared at me from before the witness stand, as if she was holding back tears. My knees turned to jelly and I fell to my seat.

The prosecution's desk and jury erupted into murmurs that requires the Judge to call for order in the court. Yukinoshita said she has no further questions, and she returned to her seat, her face once again returning to that serene sea. I leaned over and whisper in her ear.

"How did you manage to get the Colonel?"

"My father." Was her only response.

I looked at her incredulously, and she gave me a small triumphant smile. I sighed while looking forward and slouched in my seat, unable to believe the series of events that just occurred.

"Thanks," I said quietly, in a voice lower than a whisper. From the corner of my eye I caught Yukinoshita nodding.

I felt a tug on my sleeve, and when I looked down, I saw a few slender fingers holding onto my cuff for dear life.

I was reminded of a time immemorial.

Δ▼Δ

The prosecution asked for time to readjust their case, and the Judge declared the court to be adjourned until a later day. The air that had seemed to deny my existence just hours before was wiped away. I was in awe of the power of a single emotional speech that could change the attitudes of many humans in just a few moments. It was almost like a super power.

"YUKINOOOOO-CHANNN!" Screamed a voice as soon as we step into the court foyer. Haruno came running up and glomped Yukinoshita into a tight hug, much to the younger sibling's embarrassment.

"Nee-san!"

"That was brilliant! The case is basically over!" Complimented Haruno who broke into a tirade about how Yukinoshita made a genius move by bringing in the Colonel. His status instilled respect within the common man that filled the spectators and jury, while his emotional speech tugged at their heartstrings. His words were vindication for me; that now there was no way I was wrong. This proved my humanity.

The prosecution was falling apart, their one trump card utterly destroyed.

"It wasn't anything special…," said Yukinoshita shyly, rubbing her right arm with her left.

"Nonsense!" Haruno denied instantly. "You worked hard!"

"I have to agree." I concurred with a small grin.

"Well of course I had to work hard. Trying to convince any sane person that someone as creepy and anti-social as Hikigaya-kun of any positive description is a monumental task. I'm actually impressed at my own work."

Annnnnd there went the humility. A short lived sight, just like my hopes and dreams. But the smile on my face didn't disappear and I chuckled.

Haruno just laughed and places an arm around around either of our waists and pushed us towards the exit.

"We need to celebrate! I know this restaurant that has this great galbi!" [2]

Yukinoshita and I gave our complaints, but there is no intent to them. The only concession was that she let us walk ourselves when we had left through the courthouse doors into the bright daylight. Being out in the open, I felt compelled to take a deep breath.

Cool air fills my body, and I was renewed at a deep level. Like a weight had been taken off my chest and my lungs could expand completely once again. A few meters ahead of me, Haruno and Yukinoshita are engrossed in a conversation, the two sisters sharing smiles as they talked about something. Haruno suddenly looked at me and puffed her cheeks. In a moment she stomps up to me and wraps herself around my arm pulling me forward.

"No dilly dallying, Hikigaya-kun!"

"H-hold on!" I stammered, caught off guard. "Your sister looks like she's going to kill me!" And indeed, the cold glare of Yukinoshita permeated my very soul, her arms folded menacingly and entire posture ensuring that retribution would come at an opportune time.

"Is that so?" Haruno sang nonchalantly, ignoring the murderous gaze of her sibling. "Oh well, consider this your last meal." [3]

"Oi!"

The idea of "genuine" was something I had obsessed over in high school. Things that I could believe in without a shadow of a doubt. But many things had changed since then. I was so sure of myself for most of high school and my teenage years. I knew what I believed in and who I was. Or rather, I thought I did.

Right now, a lot of things were happening and I was starting to lose track of myself. Who am I? What do I want to do? It might be irresponsible to just go with the flow as I was, not caring for the consequences and how events might end. It was not genuine in the slightest, but just for the moment I decided to let the river of life carry me.

I was... happy.

I looked at the face of Yukinoshita, who had dropped the expression of wrath and now had a gentle and calm face. That ever-present smile adorned Haruno's own, and my gut said it was what she was really feeling. As I walked with them towards Haruno's car, I reflected on what the Yukinoshita sisters had been through, and what they had just done for me. And with all that in mind, I couldn't help but feel that, maybe, it was okay to accept an unsure happiness.

It's better than an assured sadness. So I let myself be happy. Just for now, at least.

 **Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**

References:

[1] Not culturally accurate in Japan, but I feel that the conceptual weight of the "tin soldier" adds more to this scene. Tin soldiers were popular toys during in the 1800s, and were brought back into cultural prominence in America during the Vietnam War where many anti-war media referred to the soldiers as "tin soldiers" who were sent out into war like toys and return back broken.

[2] Also known as "galbi." Beef short ribs that are covered in a sauce made of soy sauce, garlic, and sugar. It is usually served with customers grilling it themselves at tables fitting with grills.

[3] When a prisoner is sentenced to death they are allowed to choose whatever they want to eat for their last meal.

 **Author's Note:**

 **This chapter is a climactic moment and a major milestone in the emotional development of Hachiman as well as his relationship with Yukino. Yukino has managed to cross some sort of boundary that this more cynical and broken adult Hachiman has erected around himself. Yukino's actions this chapter will shape her career as a lawyer in events to come.**

 **The court case isn't over, and not all mysteries surrounding it have been uncovered. Far from it. Colonel Hidetaka Jun was first mentioned in Chapter 7, so it shouldn't be too far out of left field for you readers.**

 **The next few chapters will begin to focus more on a singular crime and its progression as well as the developing relationship between our two main leads. Lots of fluff, and one gag chapter to come. Afterwards, the plot should barrel forwards, so prepare yourselves.**

 **-SouBU**  
 **(Editors: Xiokenji; Lord of Admirals 412; Xynovitch)**

 _Revision Log:  
_ _03/17/2020: Re-uploaded with overhaul of tenses and changes in word choice and sentence structure as well as major grammar fixes._


	13. The Sapphire's Adieu

**Chapter 13: "The Sapphire's Adieu"**

 ** _[Shiba POV]_**

I had walked into the office building at the same time I always did, and greeted Morimi-san at the reception as I always did.

"Is that a new charm on your bracelet?" I asked when my eyes caught a silver strand on her arm. She normally had 6 pieces, but there was a seventh one attached the loop closest to the latch.

"Oh, yeah it is." Morimi-san looked at her wrist and flicked it back and forth, the jingling of the charms underscoring the action. "Good eye Shiba. Seriously, how are you single?"

I didn't answer and just gavea thin smile along with a wave and walked away. Entering the department office like I always did, I wasn't surprised when I didn't see a messy haired and eerie detective sitting at the desk at the far corner across from the entrance. Senpai was nowhere in sight when I do a quick scan of the office as I always did. In fact, the number of officers and investigators was smaller than usual. With no leads on the Ouma case and possible human trafficking, the department was taking things cautiously, so many had taken this as opportunity to rest while they could.

However, to Senpai, 'cautiously' meant 'unbearably slow'. When moments like these had occurred in previous cases, his mood would plummet out of frustration of not being able to do anything. It wasn't like he took it out on anyone, but he tended to bottle it up and it would show up in little ways.

Senpai's desk was normally organized for efficiency. Things he used often were close at hand or easy to retrieve, with the rest of the supplies in places that were intuitive to find. When he was stressed, his desk would quickly become disorderly and you could hear him grumble about being unable to find things. Pens would be where he put his rulers; stapler misplaced; notepad missing. It was as if his mind went haywire and lost that sharp edge he was known for when things got cold.

This was because he was emotionally invested, and it showed. He took every case as if it were the most important case, pushing it to completion with a dogmatic zeal. Senpai and I were similar in that regard, we both saw our roles as detectives as something more than a job. It was probably why we got along despite being so different in personality, we both understood that the other was doing this for the same reason. It helped that we cover for each other's weaknesses as well.

I shrugged off my bag and powered on the computer, scouring my email for any news on leads or requests. My inbox was empty, reflecting the general status of the amount work that the entire department had despite the severity of the situation on our hands.

"Shiba!" A deep voice called out to be with a friendly tone. "On time as usual!"

I turned my head to see an older man in a gray suit and mismatched gray slacks walk in and sit down at the desk across from me. His red tie was creased and in a Double Windsor, not the more difficult Half-Windsor he usually wore, unusual for this experienced detective that had taught me the importance of appearance in our line of work. Another sign of the unease spreading around the entire police department.

"Good morning, Muto-san." I greeted with a smile on my face. "You actually came in?"

Muto-san gave a hearty laugh. "Someone has to show the young people how its done. Maybe not you, Shiba. You're a good kid."

"I learned from the best."

"Alright, enough of that! Reminds me that I'm actually an old fart now. Feels like it was just yesterday that Tsurumi had you under my wing, how time flies."

"I'm sure you have twenty more years to work here, Muto-san. I don't know how Tokyo PD could handle burglaries without you."

"Bah! My daughter wants me to retire and I think she's about right. Grandchild on the way and all."

My eyes widened. "Really? Congratulations! Are you going to turn them into law enforcer too?"

"If my daughter doesn't gut me first."

I chuckled at his answer before I'm reminded of something. I checked the time at the bottom-right corner of my computer screen. I had 5 minutes to go before my appointment.

"If you'll excuse me, Muto-san. I have to go meet with the Chief."

"Yeah? Say hello to him for me, and your partner too. I feel bad watching Hikigaya go at it. I'm sure I don't need to tell you, but keep an eye out, alright?"

"Of course, Muto-san. As you said back during training, 'never leave your partner' behind."

"Good man."

I said my goodbyes to Muto-san and l strolled into the hallway before making a turn to go down to the eastern side of the building, the one with the most windows. The double doors that stood at the end of the wing marked that this was the Chief's office and required me to pass past the Arson department, where several officers greeted or nodded at me in recognition through the large glass pane that faced the hallway. I pulled on my collar and straightened my tie before knocking on the mahogany with my knuckles. The call of Chief Tsurumi beckoned me in.

"Morning, Shiba. How are you?" Chief Tsurumi took off his reading glasses and greeted me with a small smile.

"Good morning to you as well, sir." I respond. "I'm doing well, just wondering why you called me in."

"Take a seat first. You want some coffee?"

I slid into the chair before the Chief's desk. "No need sir, I had some on the way here."

Besides, I was in agreement with Senpai on this: the coffee in HQ was terrible. We had conspired to bring our own ground coffee beans, but were hesitant because of the 'Tomono Incident.' Legend has it that the expensive instant coffee bags poor officer Tomono had smuggled into the office had fallen into the underworld and was eaten by demons. The demons being the secretaries in Signals. Senpai and I wisely kept our mouths shut regarding that.

Some crimes just weren't worth uncovering.

The Chief nodded his head slowly at my answer and proceeded to brew himself a cup. Steam rose from his cup as the brown liquid dripped into the black ceramic container. "How's your department handling things with the Ouma case?"

"Okay, I would have to say." I spoke carefully unsure how to answer the Chief's question. I knew he didn't mean anything by it, just a genuine desire to know how the men under his command were faring. "There isn't much progress, but it's a matter of time. Detective Hiura has been sending pictures of various customers from the stakeout. I'm compiling them for an identification run in a day or two."

"Good work. But don't overwork yourselves, I already have my hands full with Hikigaya. Take a day off if you need to." The chief reached and picked up a small pink paper bag, ripping it open and poured sugar into his drink.

"Will do sir. I'm just waiting for some of the guys to get back from their own days off before I take mine. I think even Senpai had taken two days after the cargo ship investigation." My eyes watched as the Chief stirred his coffee. I didn't know he drank his coffee black, just like Senpai.

"Yeah, responsible one ain't he?" A sarcastic breath came out of the Chief as he sipped his coffee and leaned back in his office chair, the piece of furniture creaking under the stress.. "Only takes a 40 C fever to convince him to take it easy."

"Ah hah…" I let out a strained laugh as a bead of sweat rolled down my neck. There wasn't much to do on that front. Senpai was reasonable and logical most of the time, but when he had set his mind to something he would ignore all else. It was quite tiring, if I were to be honest.

"How's the boy holding up these days?"

"Senpai seems to be lively. Yesterday he was complaining about being fed by someone, I think he's good." It was something about his stomach undergoing Stockholm Syndrome.

"Good… that's good." Relief colored the Chief's words as he rotated his chair so he could look out the window into the morning summer sky. "We can't rely on him too much. I'm worried he might fall apart if no one is keeping an eye on him."

"He says he's not fragile, sir."

"He also says he won't work overtime. Yet every week payroll starts blowing up my phone and raising hell."

Cue another awkward laugh from me. Senpai's accumulation of overtime was a contentious subject within the office. Senpai's paycheck was quite generous because of the obscene hours he worked and the rest of detectives and officers grumbled about it, but cases get solved and work was completed so there wasn't much they could say. Besides, I knew Senpai didn't do it for the money.

"The Senpai of 'now' isn't like the Senpai from when we were back on Homicides."

"Speaking of Homicides, they've been raising a stink lately. They want him back, flooding my secretary with requests to talk about a temporary transfer."

"They want Senpai back?" This was news to me. Concerning news at that.

"Yes." The Chief turned to face me and nudged his chair forward and reached for a manilla folder that was in his desk organizer. "I can smell their scheme from a kilometer away: they want a temporary transfer and then they'll keep dropping cases on him until it's just easier to have him permanently moved over. I'm starting to think that their numbers may have dropped more than anticipated, things are too different without him."

Chief Tsurumi had put a lot of thought into this, and my mind cane to deduction. "So are we being assigned before they can cause trouble, sir?"

"Shiba… where can I get more of you?"

"Apologies, sir, but my mother used to say each person was unique."

An exasperated sigh came out of the Chief as he massaged the bridge of his nose. "Fantastic, he's rubbing off on you. Exactly what we need."

I offered the Chief an apologetic smile and stood from my seat before taking the manilla folder that was handed out to me. We exchanged nods and I bowed respectfully as I took my leave from his office.

As I walked down the halls of HQ I'm suddenly reminded of the past: of time just after I had gotten out of detective school officially became a detective-in-training. Senpai had joined in out of the blue, and I was equal parts surprised and uncertain by the brooding man who seemed so similar to my high school memories of him, but also so very different. It was like a cloud was held over him and was perfectly at home above his head.

Homicides wanted Senpai again, huh?

The Chief was most likely right, Senpai had been a case solving machine when he was first assigned to Homicides. In a few months their numbers and incarcerations jumped. It didn't take long for the entire department to become complacent. Not that Senpai cared, he'd just bow his head and go about his work. 65, 70, even 80 hour workweeks to get the job done.

When I confronted him on the matter he brushed me off saying that he took power naps while still on the clock, so it was more that he was taking advantage of the system than the other way around. Even if he were to be believed, these microsleeps couldn't have been for more than two hours at a time at the most. [1] What did I think?

I think Senpai was afraid to sleep.

Senpai always seemed to be at home in this chaotic storm of obsession, sleep deprivation, and high stakes; showing the full extent of his deductive ability and inhuman focus only when everything seemed to be going to hell in a handbasket.

There was a time a few years ago where cold cases were being unearthed and solved, with many of their successes being pointed back to Senpai. I'm talking about murders where the statute of limitations were about to expire; no witnesses or suspects; missing clues; you name it, Senpai somehow found his way through it. He was almost mythic by that point. A saying had started to pass around the PD: "As long as there was a live body to wrest secrets from, the case was as good as solved."

That's not true. Senpai could do cases where there were no living persons too. And he did… it was just that…

I think Senpai was scared of dead bodies.

Near the office and just before I turned the corner to enter I heard a voice groan out.

"It's not fair!"

I sighed and shook my head.

I guess Senpai just punched in.

Δ▼Δ

 ** _[Hachiman POV]_**

I looked incredulously at the article in the newspaper before me. I had turned to the international section expecting to see some words on China and maybe some update on whether the next Formula 1 race was going to be cancelled or delayed this year (since the track was currently within a warzone). Instead I saw this in black and white.

" _500 million USD in opiates seized off the coast of South Africa" by Awajima Mun_

 _CAPE TOWN (Reuters): The United States 6th Fleet unpacked nearly 17.5 metric tons of opiates, seized in international waters just off the coast of South Africa on Wednesday from a Colombian cargo ship. The total cargo was valued at 500 million US dollars (55 billion yen), and was headed for Malaysia and Japan, the drugs to be unloaded and sold in the chaotic South East Asia region._

 _The US Fleet worked with NATO allies to secure the vessel, with the forces being tipped off only a few days prior. This is just one in a long line of drug busts that have been plaguing international trade._

 _The opiates were hidden within thousands of coffee cans, layered beneath a veneer of legitimate product. The crew were arrested and cargo seized, and are awaiting investigation and an eventual trial in international court._

 _Over the last 2 years alone, the monetary value of captured narcotics has grown from 4.4 billion US dollars to 6.6 billion (48 trillion to 73 trillion yen)._

 _The growing number is attributed to increased production in South America, fueled by a demand for the drug trade due to the wars having broken out in the SEA. What was previously one of the fastest growing hubs for international trade has now become a beacon of profit for drug lords._

" _Our resources are limited; the sea is vast; and cargo ships numerous," Admiral Carl Bultz said. "We can't feasibly stop and investigate every boat, even with the help of our allies. We could remove more drugs, but we simply don't have the manpower to patrol the oceans."_

 _Although these words sounded dire, consensus is that the capture has boosted morale among the forces, giving hope that they are making a difference in the world."_

What the hell? Are you kidding me!? Why couldn't this be our boat!? They get the easy drug bust while we're out here walking on eggshells with human trafficking on our hands and the feds breathing down our necks?

The universe doth conspire against mine self, it seemeth.

I reclined my chair and ran both my hands through my hair. Enticed by the empty office and eager to voice my frustrations, I groaned loudly. "It's not fair!"

"What's not fair, Senpai?"

I removed my hands and bent my neck over the headrest. My upside down head looked at a lone Shiba Suzaku who had just walked into the office. I brought myself back to proper seating position and grabbed the newspaper off my desk and handed it over to my partner.

"Drug bust off the coast of South Africa."

Shiba raised an eyebrow at me. "Senpai, isn't it a good thing that this happened? The problem is getting solved somehow."

"Yeah, but now we have human sized problems to deal with. 6 of them to be exact."

"Senpai! That's even worse!"

I opened my mouth to justify my words, but my eyes took note the manilla folder in his hands. "What's that? Something come up?"

"Ah, yes." Shiba handed the manilla over to me. "We have a new lead on the Ouma case."

"Yeah? Finally." I accepted the package gratefully. "Did you read it already?"

"Yes, Senpai. On the way here."

It was honestly a convenient thing, this whole having-a-partner-with-a-photographic-memory. I opened the folder and scanned over the documents on the inside. Ouma Daichi had a childhood friend who had attended the same college as him, before going off to Tokyo Medical University. His name was Aoi Kaito, a brilliant student who excelled in the sciences. His hometown was in Saitama, and he briefly roomed with Ouma in a flat when they attended the same college during his undergraduate years. My eyes narrowed when I read a particularly interesting line: his family was one of the few Catholic Christian followers in Japan.

"'When Aoi had officially enrolled into medical school, his parents had helped him rent an apartment near the university. After a year of attending and living there, he moved to a newly renovated condominium in Roppongi.'" I read aloud and looked back at Shiba with a questioning look. "Why didn't I hear about this before?"

"Aoi was subpoenaed at the time. But efforts to contact him have gone cold." Shiba responded, putting his photographic memory to use and summarizing the key points of the information. "Detectives were going to be sent, as the time limit for complyment had ended, but his parents have recently filed a missing persons request. They claim that they couldn't reach him two weeks ago, as if he vanished."

I flipped through the dossier, landing on a page that detailed the clues we had thus far. "Seems whatever text messages and call logs found showed no signs of Aoi planning on running away."

Actually, by the looks of it, the successful student was quite content with life. His only real concern being the cost of attending medical school and the loans he was accruing. Something that I could understand and found to be completely normal. It wouldn't make people run away, especially when Aoi was on the path to being a doctor. Paying off his loans was more than feasible after a few years in the field he had chosen.

Shiba and I piled into his car (I let him drive this time), and we made our way to Roppongi. A district of Minato within Tokyo Prefecture, Roppongi was a well developed area that attracted the old and distinguished families (aka. 'Old Money') as well as successful entrepreneurs who had now become wealthy (aka. 'New Money'). The Roppongi Hills area in particular was famous for its affluent residents and vibrant nightlife. And Roppongi Hills was exactly where Aoi's apartment complex was located, sitting between two large hills with a scenic view over the city below.

The building itself was large, with 30 floors and three wings. The outside was a beautiful mix of thin steel lines that ran all over the surface and formed a Cartesian plane of metal that held blackened glass within its spaces. The entire structure shimmered in the sun like it was made with obsidian. It may just be me, but I couldn't help but find this more subliminal than the design philosophies of old. There was beauty in its simplicity, a type of function-meeting-form that was only possible with modern technological revolutions.

The overall shape of the architecture was a 'Y' character, with the easternmost wing containing Aoi's condo. We entered the complex and showed our badges and we're allowed in by security. There wasn't a need for a search warrant as Aoi's parents had kindly provided us keys to the residence (courtesy of Hiura's charm or so I'm told by Secretary-chan).

"15F, huh?" I spoke aloud rhetorically as we entered the elevator. I pressed the button marked 15, watching as the number illuminated. "Smackdab middle of the place."

"Do you think it means anything?" Shiba asked.

"Probably not. Just wondering how the values of the apartments are affected by the floors they're on."

"Well, seeing as there aren't any tall buildings around, I believe the prices go up because of the view."

"Charging for aesthetic? What a time to be alive."

"Senpai's apartment isn't the same?"

"Not sure. There's another apartment building to my east, so there's not much to see there. Northside overlooks Shibuya just fine. The prices for my floor and the one above were about the same."

I just chose the lower floor because, should I have to jump out the window, I would have a slightly higher chance of survival.

The elevator dinged, letting us know we had reached the 15th floor, and opened its stainless steel doors to free us from it's cage. We walked down the hallway and easily found Aoi's apartment. The lavish brass plaque that laid upon the white painted door was engraved with the characters '15F.' I stepped backward and gestured to Shiba, who took out the keys from his pocket and unlocked the door.

I angled my body so that as soon as it opened I could peer at the nearest inside corner immediately. Hiura had investigated the security footage of the apartment ahead of time. The initial two days of the two week period had no video, with the cameras being down for maintenance on this floor. My colleague had assured that for the remaining time, no one had come in or out of Aoi's apartment. It was probably true, but my right hand still crept its way inside my jacket subconsciously. As Shiba twisted the knob and pushed the door open inward, my fingers curled around the grip of my H&K P30L, ready to pull it out a moments notice should things somehow go wrong.

I couldn't tell if this was caution or paranoia.

The room erupted open with the stench of old dust and mold in the stale air, like the inside of a backyard storage shed you rarely went into. The door creaked farther in, Shiba wrinkling his nose, and my eyes scanning the shadowed room. My hand grasped for the lightswitch on the wall as we moved in. Aoi's condo was very lavish. A lacquered wooden floor was covered with a Persian rug that stretched out from the center.A large glass coffee table was encircled a ring of black leather sofas. The entire ensemble faced a flat-screen TV that was easily bigger than my bed.

"I thought this kid was supposed to stressing over loans?" I asked Shiba as my eyes look over the rest of the room, silently judging the decor. He had a replica of " _The Starry Night_ " hanging on his wall.

Good taste.

"He did work a part-time job as a research intern for a foreign consulting company. I wouldn't be surprised if he managed to make some money on the side." Shiba suggested as he took out his smartphone.

"But still…" I grumbled, the words trailing off as I walked into the kitchen. "... to afford all this?" I ran a finger across the granite countertop, and inspected the digit. A layer of dust had accumulated, but there were still pans haphazardly placed upon the stove. On the black marble dinner table was a mostly eaten meal that had began to rot.

"No signs of forced entry." Suzaku snapped pictures with his smartphone, taking records of everything. "No pronounced scratches on the floors. Door looks in good condition. The lock and latch don't look damaged."

"Do you think we can rule out kidnapping?"

"I don't think so, he could have been grabbed when he left the house."

"True enough."

I opened the fridge and found it surprisingly empty. Was Aoi planning on getting groceries as well when he left? The silver oven was used as storage for cooking tools, making it obvious that he didn't bake. It looked more and more like Aoi had just left. But we still had two days unaccounted for.

"Senpai." Called Shiba. "I'm done with this room. No obvious signs that anyone else was in here."

"Alright, let's move on."

We took a left at the kitchen and head into the other room in the apartment, Aoi's bedroom. The room was neatly laid out. The bed was made and I couldn't spot a single article of clothing on the floor. What a responsible guy, this Aoi must have been. A revolting level of cleanliness. I strolled around the room while Shiba started taking more pictures. I didn't see a cross or a Bible near his bedside or night table.

My attention was stolen by a bookshelf in the corner. It had less dust than most of the other pieces of furniture in the house, obvious even to the naked eye at a distance. All the shelves were filled to the brim, except for one shelf that had a gap between two bound books of what seemed like a textbook collection.

"' _Sobotta_.'" I pronounced slowly, the foreign word moving across my tongue strangely. The books were white, with a drawing of a heart on one and the bare muscles of a man on the other. Volumes 1 and 3 by the looks of it, leaving the second volume unaccounted for. Perhaps he had taken it?

I pull the first volume of the shelf and lift the cover, taking my time to flip through the contents. Full color illustrations and letters that used the Latin script alphabet, but it wasn't making English words. I open to the books initial pages, checking which city this book was published in.

"Munich?" I whispered in disbelief. Aoi knew German? [2]

I filed away the information, intent on discussing it with Shiba at a later time. Did he know before? I placed the book back where I found it and continued my observation of the room. His study desk was located next to the bookshelf, its surface was a soft beige and the office chair was pushed in neatly. As expected, his pens and other stationery were immaculately positioned. I'm starting to not like this Aoi guy more and more. I noticed a piece of plastic stuck between two drawers. Curiosity getting the better of me, I pulled open the drawer and rummage through it, which attracts Shiba's ire.

"Senpai, we don't have a search warrant! This could be a crime scene for all we know, we could get arrested!"

"Doubt it." I responded confidently and showed him two very familiar plastic bags with white powder inside, causing Shiba's eyes to widen. "Vacuum sealed and identical in size and shape to the stuff we found on Ouma Daichi. Probably opiates. If I had to guess, our medical student was also a recreational drug user, his best friend being his dealer."

Shiba took this as reason enough to search the apartment a little more 'thoroughly.'

One of the closet doors wasn't closed all the way, and I peered inside to see a set of lab coats arranged on coat hangers. One of the hangers was empty, however.

"Senpai." Shiba waved me over to a red box on the floor near the bed. "He has a trauma kit, and it was opened. But the surgical tool set is missing. I couldn't find a book bag anywhere either."

I could picture a student getting ready for school, reading his book with his morning meal before grabbing his lab coat, textbook, and tool kit for a day in the lab for class.

Did he go missing on his way to university like Shiba theorized? If I was a criminal, what would I do? How could I make a man disappear off the face of the Earth?

Hold on.

Kidnapping was difficult. There were simply too many logistical matters that complicated the issue and created risks that would reveal the crime. First of all, the person being kidnapped had to be transported without raising suspicion. And then after that, they had to be fed, allowed to go to the bathroom, etc. Just having the victim move around could lead to discovery. It wasn't just other people or witnesses you had to worry about, if the criminal had a day job the victim would be left unattended for hours on end. It was asking for trouble.

Aoi wasn't a child, he was a full grown adult man. Someone being kidnapped like that will not go unnoticed. Not to mention his nutrition needs will be greater than usual and generate suspicion in some people. I don't know if my mind just refused to accept that someone could vanish and was making up excuse, or if I was thinking straight.

Straight? Why are we thinking straightforwardly? There was one angle we didn't approach this from. And a particularly gruesome case stood out in my mind.

"Theoretically…" I started, turning to Shiba with a hand on my chin as I pondered. "What if he never left the apartment?"

"The first two days may not have footage, but I don't think a grown man can just disappear."

"You don't have to turn them into ghosts to make people vanish. You just need to get creative."

"Creative?" Shiba cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"Back in detective school, crime history class. During the modern segment they talked about that Russian graduate student, Mele Key something?" Dammit, it was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't recall.

Shiba's eyes widened. "Case GJR-7492, City of Moscow versus Dmitry Zelensky!"

The familiar name ignites the memories and the hazy image I had was suddenly filled in. "Yeah, that's the one. If we use that as a model, Aoi never had to leave the apartment to go missing."

Shiba nodded and his eyes take a hard edge. "First, they kill Aoi bloodlessly. An electrical shock between 100 to 200 milliamps could work. Or poison; anything from cyanide, arsenic, maybe even over-the-counter drugs like paracetamol that induce liver failure."

"The easiest way would be to just choke them out. More silent too. The victim might start flailing, though." I continued walking into the living room with Shiba following me. "The next steps are easy. The living room is wide enough. Lay out a plastic sheet, put the body on top and cut it up into tiny pieces."

"... and then flush it down the toilet or down the bathtub drain… no evidence to be collected if we don't find it in time." Shiba finished for me, closing his eyes and massaging his forehead.

"It's been two weeks, we could find traces of blood in the sewers. Maybe. I'm not too sure about actual body parts, but it's worth a shot."

"I'll call Chief Tsurumi," Shiba said after delivering a lengthy sigh.

Δ▼Δ

Café scenes.

Film students are taught to never have scenes where characters talked at a café. It was boring, derivative, and other scenes could accomplish the same outcomes with more potency and visual interest. It was objectively, a bad tool in the kit of filmmakers.

But I think this is misguided.

The reason why this trope was so popular was because of how easy it is for everyone to identify with such a scene. Everyone goes to restaurants and converses with one another over meals. It was almost a perfect setting. Should the conversation die out, they can all busy themselves with food. If topics start becoming repetitive they can switch gears to how the food tastes.

Besides, eating together was inherently a bonding experience. Eating was an action necessary to survive, and to share your food and eat next to someone else was a surprisingly intimate action. A show of trust.

The cafe scene trope was in all dramas. All of them. I dare you to find one that doesn't have one. So what does it mean when I find myself in one?

Clearly, the gods of RomCom had an especially morbid sense of humor.

I entered the restaurant and looked around the tables. My eyes are quickly snatched by the waving hand of Yuigahama Yui as she flagged me down excitedly. As I approached the table I see the trendy sweater that Yui wore over her pink blouse. Next to her sat Yukinoshita wearing a white sundress with black patterns. My worries that I would feel out of place in my work attire were for naught.

"Sorry about that." I apologized as I took a seat. "Got stuck at work, some last minute stuff popped up."

"Yes, and it seems you have forgone your tie once more." Yukinoshita gave me a cold glare through narrowed eyes.

"Guess what? No one died today. Maybe I should forget the tie everyday until the end of time." I retorted.

"Does the concept of correlation not equivalating to causation not exist in that mind of yours? The safety of Japan is clearly in peril if they are this lax on the intellectual capability of their officers."

"Please." I scoffed. "As if the state of my uniform has anything to do with how well I do my job. All this excluding the fact that I'm only missing a TIE."

"Well, it certainly reflects your uselessness in other aspects, doesn't it? I-Cannot-Tie-A-Tie-So-I-Do-Not-Wear-A-Tie-gaya-kun?"

"You listen here. First of all, you have to be a mutated lizard to be able to say that without biting your tongue. Second of all, I'll have you know that—"

"W-well!" Yuigahama held out two hands and interrupted the war of words before her. "I'm glad you're here Hikki! Sorry, but we got hungry waiting for you so we ended up ordering some appetizers and drinks before you arrived…"

"Don't worry about it."

Besides, this just means I could bum off some food from them. And free food always tasted the best.

Yukinoshita intercepted my thoughts. "I hope you are not thinking that you will likely get some free food from this. Surprisingly enough, you are a hardworking member of society. Not some charity case."

"What are you!? A mind reader!?"

Yuigahama tried hard to stifle her giggling, but it came out anyway and eventually she started laughing hard near the end of our bickering. As she dried the tears away she says gleefully with a million dollar smile, "Feels like old times. The way you two always talk. I missed you two."

"I too, missed you all." An honest smile graced Yukinoshita's lips.

They looked at me expectedly.

"Hmm? I didn't feel a thing... forgot about both of you."

Legs from two different women hit either of my knee caps simultaneously. A tear of pain rolled down my cheek as I put on a brave smile and accepted that being a comedic wasn't for me.

We chattered as appetizers came in. Yukinoshita regaled us with tales of England, telling us of the culture and the country. Yuigahama was particularly enamored with the stories of Yukinoshita visits to Buckingham Palace and how Westerners celebrated Christmas.

Yuigahama, it turned out, was not idle over the years. She had finished college and was on a path to becoming a teacher. A kindergarten teacher to be specific.

"That suits you." Agreed Yukinoshita.

"That it does. Her constitution already makes her motherly figure. She was born to be a kindergarten teacher," I said.

"Hee hee, I don't really get it but Hiki praising me is pretty rare by itself."

"I would throw away that compliment as soon as possible, Yuigahama," Yukinoshita said icily as she gave me a glacial glare. "It seems Pervert-gaya-kun returns with a vengeance. Once one, always one, I would hazard."

I apologize, Yukinoshita-sama. I didn't mean it like that. Please spare the blizzard, I understand the error of my ways.

Our main courses arrived, and I stood up to remove my jacket and place on the back of my chair. My now visible shoulder holster caughtYuigahama attention.

"Wow..."

"Something wrong, Yuigahama?" I asked.

"No it's just that… I guess Hiki working for the police hasn't sunk in yet."

"Why is that?" I asked, slightly offended.

"I could never picture you as one." Laughed Yuigahama awkwardly. "I mean you always said how you didn't want to talk to other people, but you're a detective right? Isn't your job all about talking to other people? I thought you would be a writer or something, cuz you read so many books and stuff."

"I have to agree." Yukinoshita nodded thoughtfully. "I was quite surprised when I walked into the police department and saw our resident loner,who is so pathetic that his existence disappears; a zero value human being in society; skulking around the building with this trademark rotten eyes."

"Hey!" I protested. "I don't skulk anymore!"

"You're not going to deny the rest?!" Yuigahama exclaimed.

I said nothing and unclasped my cuffs before rolling them up to my elbows. I loosened my collar and pick up my fork. The distinct lack of sounds from my two meal partners made me look up and see that instead of concerning themselves with their food, they were looking at me funny.

"What? Did I button my shirt wrong?"

"H-Hiki is kind of in shape isn't he?" Yuigahama stumbled through her words. "You used to be really lanky in high school."

"These changes are almost incomprehensible." Sighed Yukinoshita.

"Eh, being in shape was sort of a habit the JSDF beat into me." I shrugged and answered without giving it much thought. In terms of fitness I was about the average. As a sniper I didn't need massive strength or endurance. I just had to have a mind of steel.

"JSDF?" Yui asked surprised. "You were a soldier?"

"I, uh, joined after high school."

"Is that why…?"

"... yeah kinda, didn't have a lot of time to keep in touch when I was in service. When I got back from duty I studied to be a detective."

"I could scarcely believe it myself." Yukinoshita added in edgewise. "Apparently he's quite good at his job. He has some coworkers that respect him, and they were even vocal in their disbelief that he was sued."

Yui's eyes widened into two full moons. "Hikki was sued!?"

"... I wasn't aware it was to be kept a secret from her," Yukinoshita said looking at me, clearly upset that I didn't let Yuigahama know.

"Yeah, well, cat's out of the bag now." I grumbled. I quickly summarized the case: I had worked with Haruno and helped her out with some cases, so when I got sued, Haruno sent Yukino to be lawyer as payback.

"But why were you sued?" Yuigahama asked innocently.

"Uhhh..." How did I answer this? I'm unsure how to spin this in a way that doesn't get her too involved in things.

"Hikigaya-kun was charged with breaking protocol when trying to catch a criminal." Yukinoshita mercifully came to back me up. "The family is suing him. It's nothing too major, and should clear up in a short time."

"Thank goodness." Yuigahama heaved in relief, placing a hand to her chest. "Thanks for being there for Hikki, Yukinon." Both of Yuigahama's hands go to hold Yukinoshita's. Yukinoshita begins to blush and sputter like a World War 2 aircraft engine running on fumes.

What is this? The yuri-particle levels are reaching heights never thought possible before! [3]

I cleared my throat. "Yurigah— I mean Yuigahama, sorry for ruining your moment, but can we eat now?"

Yukinoshita sighed in defeat. "It seems you still have learned no tact."

Yuigahama just giggled.

They grabbed their utensils and after they started eating did I begin eating myself. The dinner ended quietly, the two girls chatting and I would give the occasional word, but otherwise, I was just happy to listen.

Δ▼Δ

After the bill was settled we left the restaurant. Yukinoshita's hotel was in the opposite direction of where Yuigahama and I were headed, so we said our goodbyes and went on our ways. I offered to walk Yuigahama to the station, and she agreed brightly.

"I'm glad we met up," said Yuigahama. "I didn't know if we could still talk like we used to. I was worried it would be weird. But it feels like we never left."

I didn't respond, my mind too busy trying to come up with a way to address my concerns.

"Hey." I started, getting Yuigahama's attention. "Uh… sorry… for not keeping in touch."

"It's fine." Yuigahama shook her head with a somber smile. "I can see now that Hikki was plenty busy… I can't find it in me to be mad anymore."

So she was mad at me before? Damn, I really am a horrible person. There was a brief lull as we walked in tandem.

"Hey Hikki… why did you join the military when you graduated? I thought you disappeared. Komachi-chan said she couldn't tell me unless you did first. So I was just wondering… why?"

I inhaled. Yuigahama was aware of what the relationships were like between members of the Service Club. She knew that I was in love with Yukinoshita at some point. After all, that was the reason I gave when Yuigahama had confessed to me. Lying wouldn't work for her, and it wouldn't be right. I felt guilty that I didn't keep in touch with the people I had considered my friends.

"I was being weak."

"... weak?"

"... I got upset when… that happened."

"I was upset too, you know…"

"Yeah, but… we had different reasons for being upset. I was just being selfish. I was being weak."

"... I think it's fine, Hikki. There's nothing wrong with feeling that way."

"..."

"I think Hikki should have said something… back then."

"If I said anything… she would have stayed. And I couldn't live with myself if I held her back." Yuigahama looked away, unable to refute what I said. She knew it was the truth.

"... Hikki, you can be selfish. It's okay sometimes." Her tone firm as her eyes returned to look at me.

"It's not." My voice had the most peculiar tone. It wasn't exactly harsh, but I couldn't say it was self-derisive either. It was more of a gentle resolution. "It was the best thing for her. I shouldn't have been upset. I was just being… weak. Someone told me how the military made them stronger… so I thought that maybe it fixes weak guys like me. And maybe I'd be like him."

Yuigahama went quiet before whispering quietly. "I think Hikki's was plenty strong already…"

Looking straight ahead, I smiled softly. "Thanks… for caring."

A comfortable silence formed between us as we continued to walk towards the station. The distance we kept was never too close, but never too far. Our hands never had the opportunity to brush against one another, but we could easily reach out and grab the other's. It was that kind of distance.

As the station came into view, I was prepared to bid Yuigahama farewell but I was stopped by a hand tugging at the hem of my jacket. Nostalgia assaulted me as I turned around and am met with Yuigahama wearing a serious face, something that was completely unlike her.

"Hikki… do you still like Yukinon?"

She asked a question I had been preparing for, and I held an audibly deep breath. "I don't know. I want to say no, but I honestly haven't thought about it much. My head feels like it's been through a blender and back this past month. I really gotta blame Haruno, she's been working me like a horse."

Yuigahama giggled and let go of my jacket. "Yukinon seems a lot happier. Really happy. Even happier than the last year of highschool. She's a lot calmer too. It makes me glad to see her like this."

"It was to be expected," I said dismissively. "A lot things improved for her. It took some time, but years of family issues finally healed."

"Not just her, Hikki has a different face when he talks about her."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, baffled by the implication of this statement.

"It's nothing… besides…" The happiness in Yuigahama's voice seemed to evaporate. "It's better this way."

I reached out a hand worriedly, but she nimbly stepped backwards to avoid it.

"I gotta get going if I want to catch the train to Chiba. It was nice seeing you again Hikki!"

And she's gone.

My hand remained outstretched as I saw her figure get smaller and smaller, my mind abuzz with confusion. My hand retracted and I'm momentarily fascinated by the crisscrossing lines on my palm.

Fortune tellers used the palm to predict the future and how lives will change. Each dark line was like a branching pathway, a pathway of possibility.

People didn't change because they want to, they change because of a pressure in their world. They adapt out of a need to; be it a stimulus they instill themselves, or one given to them by the society at large.

But change does occur, whether people like it or not, I had come to accept this as I grew up. It was a lesson I wish I could tell my high school self: that change was something inevitable, there was nothing enviable in remaining stagnant when the world itself would not be. You'll just go running straightforward into disaster all in the name of 'not conforming' and 'accepting yourself.'

It was what made the jungles of Sri Lanka my personal hell. I had tried to resist the changes. If I had just accepted it earlier, maybe more lives could have been saved.

But Yuigahama was different from me. She was better than me. Yuigahama was like a sapphire. In her youth she was brilliant and vivacious, but unstable and unsure of her place in the world she perceived. But a sapphire when heated loses its luster and instead gains an infinitely deeper color.

I don't know what pressure caused Yuigahama to change, but she's far more vibrant than I ever remembered her. There was a depth to her I couldn't even begin to parse from a distance. She was more direct. More honest. More… genuine. And hopelessly found that to be beautiful, like the blue abyss of a mature sapphire. Even if admitting such a thing makes me feel the familiar sting of guilt.

As if I'm betraying someone.

 **Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**

References:

[1] 'Microsleep' is a real word.

[2] "Sobotta" is a series of German medical textbooks in real life.

[3] Gundam 00 reference. In season 2 the 00 Gundam uses two GN Drives to square GN Particle output leading to amazing performance in combat.

 **Author's Note:**

 **This chapter was meant to accomplish a few things, so this will be a longer authors note than the usual.**

 **I wanted to give some background on Shiba and Hachiman's working partnership and hint at the struggles they had gone through during the start of their career. Lots of things happened in those two years that I realistically can't list out, but they have had an impact on the current events of the story. Shiba's perspective on Hachiman is meant to characterize the former as well.**

 **I also wanted to give some more life to the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. It's not completely full of useless officer. There are a variety of personalities and people there, it's just that the story concerns itself with a small cast.**

 **This chapter also served as an introduction to our next lead, Aoi Kaito. The circumstances behind his disappearance are suspect, and we'll see where this takes our dynamic duo. I want to give special thanks to my friend, Sabel-Pixel. As a doctor, he has been my medical liaison for medical questions and information that I utilize in this and coming chapters. He was the one who introduced me to the "Sobotta" textbooks. Sabel was extremely patient in dealing with my silly and inane questions, THANK YOU!**

 **And finally, Yuigahama Yui.**

 **In one of the older drafts of Unmade, Yui played a larger role in the story. She acted as a matchmaker of sorts as well as a confidante for both Yukino and Hachiman. Eventually, she would invite them over to Chiba for a nostalgic visit. This entire arc had to be removed.**

 **I found Yui to be an interesting character. I imagine her to be the type of person to learn self-awareness and gain self-assurance from watching Hachiman and Yukino. As she grows, she would accept herself for who she was and learn to be happy with what she can achieve. I can see how she would mature into a person who could see the silliness of her teenage years, but not regret them. She would see them as precious memories where she learned to live.**

 **In this story, Yui had confessed to Hachiman in high school and was soundly rejected. However, this rejection does not mean she has come to hate him nor Yukino. She just understood that some things weren't meant to be.**

 **-SouBU**  
 **(Editors: XioKenji; Lord of Admirals 412; Xynovitch)**

 _Revision Log:  
_ _03/17/2020: Re-uploaded with overhaul of tenses and changes in word choice and sentence structure as well as major grammar fixes. Edited author's note to be more succinct._


	14. To Take Pity, is to Take

**Chapter 14: "To Take Pity is to Take"**

It was a risky situation

That was actually underselling it: this was FUBAR.

The noon sky was cloudy, making the office building at the street corner stand out even more than usual. Not that this was required, the building was probably the most important location in all of Japan at the moment. Before the glass doors of the ground floor was a sea of police cruisers on the roads, with their red and blue lights flashing. Cars were angled to form a wall before the building. Officers with tense faces took cover behind their vehicles, pistols in hand and eyes laser focused on the doors.

The loud beating sound of rotating wings caused me to tilt my head upwards and watch as a black helicopter hovered in the air, circling the building. This was the fifth helicopter that flew overhead in the last hour. Three being police and the other two media. Speaking of the media, reporters and news vans were far behind us, separated from our fortification with yellow caution tape.

The occasion?

At 8AM today, 10 armed men stormed the Tokyo Embassy of the Philippines in Japan. They entered the building and began firing into the ceiling, and quickly took control of the building. With working hours beginning at 9AM, the offices were relatively empty, but as a result they were able to completely corral 34 hostages on the 8th floor. Police officers were at the scene within minutes, and after an hour, what felt like every every law enforcer in Tokyo showed up for the spectacle.

Your's truly was also called in.

The terrorists claimed to be members of the Filipino rebel forces, the same ones that were currently occupying the country's capital, Manilla, after having ousted the loyalists. Their 'request' was simple: they wanted Japan to release captured rebel soldiers and high ranking officers before they were transferred into American custody. They threatened to kill the first hostage at 1PM should their demands not be met.

The negotiator had established a line of communication, but the terrorists would not budge on their demands. Things had escalated from bad to worse when gunshots could be heard. Negotiators managed to get information from the terrorists, and the news was not pleasant. One of the hostages had attempted to fight back against the terrorists and was subsequently shot, but was not yet deceased. With the possible death of a Japanese citizen on the line, the Japanese government had no other cards to play and sent for their best men to deal with the situation.

A black armored van pulled up around 11:30 AM. It was unmarked and had an air of intimidation around it. This was further strengthened when the back doors opened and 8 soldiers that were armed to the teeth stepped out. Large white letters on their backs spelt 'SFG,' the only identification we could see as their helmets had tinted visors covering their faces. I had given a low whistle at the appearance of the Special Forces Group, which earned me a befuddled glare from one of the nearby officers whose complexion was pale as a ghost.

At 11:57 AM the SFG force had begun their breach.

It was now 12:01 PM.

"You look calm, Senpai." Shiba whispered from my side, his fingers wrapped around his gun. It was diminutive revolver, the New Nambu Model 60 double action. A staple for all police officers in Japan. His grip on the weapon was tight, I could see the blood leaving his knuckles. I scoff mentally, he wouldn't be able to hit a thing with how rigid he is.

But he was aware of his current state, and began a conversation in an effort to distract his mind and relax. Just as the textbook said. I looked forward once more, leaning on the window of the car "Well, yeah. Not like I'm the one storming the beaches."

"Is that a good idea?"

"Shiba, they're Special Forces. If they can't do it, do you think we can?"

"That… might be true." Admited Shiba, his face taut. "But what if?"

"This is this. That is that," I said with a solemn intonation, hoping I sounded like a Buddhist monk. [1]

"... sometimes I don't know how you do it, Senpai."

It was something I couldn't really expect him to know. Shiba was never part of military training exercises and so he never had a chance to see SFG men at work. To be in SFG was an honor, if purely for the fact that you were even asked. They only took the cream of the crop from all forces, and then further combed through for the perfect soldiers among their best.

I had seen a few SFG training raids in my time, and it was like watching a ballet recital, but with guns and lead. They moved like lightning, blitzing through doors and corners with mechanical precision. Every member was capable of eliminating simulated targets with uncanny accuracy, to the extent you would have thought they were all the dedicated marksmen of their old squads.

The SFG were our best. If they couldn't do something, the only people we could call would be 6 and request team Rainbow's assistance

And they didn't even exist. [2]

So what use was there in sweating over this? I wasn't overly patriotic or anything, but I had confidence in the SFG. I took a look at the time on my smartphone. It was 12:02PM, which means….

Murmurs began among the gathered police, and I looked back at the entrance. I caught a glimpse of motion behind one of the windows. The glass doors swung open and men and women in civilian clothing came racing out, followed up by the SFG soldiers garbed in black gear and helmets with rifles at ease and pointed downwards. Two of them beckoned waiting paramedics inside, and the medics rushed through with a stretcher following after them.

I patted Shiba's back. "See? Nothing to worry about."

Like clockwork, SFG went in, eliminated all the terrorists, and extracted the hostages in exactly 5 minutes. News reporters and camera men scrambled to get footage of the release and the securing of the man "who was injured as he bravely resisted the terrorists" as one live broadcaster spoke into her microphone. I wouldn't be surprised if the papers tomorrow told a sensational story that turned his impulsive stupidity into some type of heroism.

"Wow, they're really kitted out." Shiba commented as his eyes look over a small gathering of SFG members that were chatting to one another.

They wore identical gear for the most part. Form fitting plate armor went over their chest, ribs, arms, thighs and shins. A black fabric covered the rest, including the neck and legs. Their helmets and combat goggles protected their head and eyes, with face plates going over the mouth and nose. It was a complete full body armor set, a recent development for infantry. It was thinner than the tactical armor of just 5 years ago, and looked like something out of a sci-fi novel.

"Yeah they are." I responded. My eyes trailed to the weapons in their hands. It was a rifle I had never seen before, possibly 80 centimeters long, not counting the suppressors that were attached to the barrels.

Curious, I took a closer observation. Picatinny rails sat on all four sides of a rectangular perforated floating handguard, with a vertical grip at the bottom. Sights adorned the top rail; the choice differing from soldier to soldier in the group before me as it was personal preference. The overall shape was similar to an M4, but even more compact, and the dull color of some areas implied that it had more polymer parts than its American counterpart. Could this be the carbine variant of the Type 89 that was supposedly in final stages of development? They must have started limited production.

"Senpai." Called Shiba, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Their vests don't look like the ones we use."

"Ah, you don't know about Aegis?"

"Aegis? Like the shield?" [3]

"Kinda. I'm talking about the brand name thats referring to that."

"No, can't say I have."

"Mmm, well in Germany some materials company made a new type of body armor. They called it the 'Aegis Ballistics Armor System.' Was big news, even made national television."

"What's so special about it?"

"It's made of two layers. The outer layer was some carbon weave thing that was crazy hard. The inner layer was a cloth with gel in the middle."

"Gel?"

"Yeah, I think it's called liquid body armor? When it gets hits it becomes solid, but it's liquid the rest of the time so it can bend. The Germans made a nanogel or whatever. Really useful, you can use it to cover places conventional armor doesn't, like the neck."

"Huh, so the outer layer stops the bullet from penetrating, I'm guessing. The inner layer absorbs the force?"

"Yeah, the liquid body armor makes sure you don't have too much trauma. It's rated for some minor calibers as well, 9mm included. The biggest selling point is that it's a ton lighter for the same or better protection."

"That sounds amazing! Why don't we have more?"

I shrugged. "Price I guess. Government started throwing more money into defense after the SEA blew up. Not really much of a shock that spec-ops teams get the fancy new stuff first. It'll eventually trickle down. Prices will go down too when the Germans lose their patent."

"Did Senpai ever use them? You sure know a lot."

"Nah, I used the ceramic and Kevlar vests. My old C.O. just keeps me in the loop about this stuff. He said that he tried one out a month or two ago."

"Oh…" Shibas words trailed off as he looked at the soldiers with a bit more interest with the new information at hand. "Uhhh, Senpai? One of them is looking at us."

"Come again?" I turned to see what he was talking about. Sure enough one of the futuristic armored men was starting right at us… wait, actually I felt like he was focusing on me. Just as I began having these thoughts the strange soldier began to remove his armor. First lifting off his tinted combat goggles, then unlatching the face plate, before freeing his head from the whole helmet assembly.

The first thing I noticed was the black hair with a few loose strands that fell over the soldier's face. His face was young, around my age, if not a few years older, if I had to say. Sharp brown eyes completed an equally sharp look, as expected of a put together soldier of the SFG.

The man grinned when his eyes caught mine and he straightened up and gave a picture perfect salute. Something clicked in my head, and I recognized him.

"Holy shit… its Takuya." I breathed out in disbelief. Protocol kicked in and I bring a hand to my temple, returning a lazy salute back. Tatsuya's grin grew a smidge wider at the motion, and I found my lips curling as well. We shared a nod before his attention was called by what I assumed was the leader of his team.

"Senpai, you know him?" Shiba asked, his eyes following Takuya's back as the SFG team loaded back into their van.

"Yeah, actually do." I shook my head to reorient myself. I felt a little elated at seeing a familiar face after so long. "He used to be in my squad back when I was serving with the JSDF, Takeuchi. He was a fellow Senior Private… or rather he used to be. Who knows what rank he made now."

Takeuchi Takuya was a rifleman on my squad, and also part of my survival team when we were stuck in that jungle for a year. Only being 3 years older, he was the closest to me in age on the squad. Takuya was the brightest star among all of us. He was a soldier who followed orders, was as fit as a horse, had high combat IQ, and was seemingly good at everything. From hand-to-hand, to shooting, even recon, he could do it all, and do it better than anyone else.

Takuya was one of the most reliable men I knew, and I can say I owed my life to him a few times in Sri Lanka. And I knew without a single doubt that he'd risk his life for mine, and he had on multiple occasions. He was my comrade.

"He's SFG?" I asked quietly to no one in particular. "I guess it was only a matter of time."

Was this levity in my chest, pride? From seeing someone I know achieve great things? Who cares, I was just glad to see him doing well.

It was so much easier being happy for someone else.

Δ▼Δ

 ** _[Yukinoshita Yukino POV]_**

To my surprise, Hikigaya Hachiman had contacted me earlier in the day, saying that Hiratsuka-sensei had invited me over for dinner. Her house was close enough from his apartment that it was only a twenty minute walk through a quiet neighborhood to reach our destination.

It was a modest home with a backyard. White sidlings for the body of the house with a speckled black and grey roof. The front steps were of brick and metal, and lead up to a wooden door, stained brown and lacquered. There were two floors, enough for a single family to reside comfortably in.

Hikigaya-kun didn't even bother to ring the doorbell or knock, he just turned the doorknob and walked in, loudly announcing his entrance.

"I'm home!"

I'm absolutely shocked on two counts. One, that the family had just left the door unlocked. Two, the way he barged in like a battering ram. I quickly followed him in and closed the door after I entered, carefully making sure to engage both locks before turning around to the interior of the house.

"Welcome home!" Hiratsuka-sensei's greeted him, her voice coming from down the hall. "Is Yukinoshita here as well?"

"Indeed! Her highness has decided to generously grace us with her presence."

I frowned, and prepared a retort but stop when I see Hiratsuka-sensei poking her head around the corner and looking at him with dissatisfaction. "Why are you like this?"

My former club-advisor noticed my presence and she gave me a familiar childish grin. "Oh hey, there's a face I haven't seen in a while. Welcome to my humble abode, Yukinoshita."

"Oh!" I quickly bowed. "Where are my manners? Pardon the intrusion, Hiratsuka-sensei. It's nice to see you again."

"Shizuka!" A angry voice called out and a peeved Tsurumi Rumi storms around the corner, a frilly apron covering her front. "You left me in the middle of frying the karaage!" The teenagers eyes met mine and she nodded curtly before noticing another's presence. "Oh Hachiman, welcome home."

"Yeah, I'm home." The man responded, somehow having teleported to the couch from his previous position beside me. He had a remote in hand and quickly flipped through the channels. His way of letting us know he would be preoccupied until dinner.

Hiratsuka-sensei shook her head as she turned to me. "You eat yet?"

Dinner preparations continued on for another hour. Hiratsuka-sensei and Rumi prevented me from helping, Sensei reminding me that I was the guest and should relax. So I ended up sitting on the couch adjacent to Hikigaya-kun and watching whatever program was on at the moment. We were soon joined by Chief Tsurumi who greeted Hikigaya-kun and I, the former getting a hearty slap on the back. The hiss of pain and enraged muttering made it difficult to suppress my mirth.

Sensei called us for dinner. As I sat down at the table I'm met with a full course spread: rice with nori and furikake; miso soup; pickled cabbage; a Western Ceaser salad; spicy karaage; Chinese-style bell peppers and beef stir-fry; some assorted greens boiled in dashi; and some freshly brewed tea for good measure. [4]

" " " " "Thanks for the meal!" " " " "

Five voices rang and began to start eating… or rather Chief Tsurumi, Hiratsuka-sensei, and Rumi began to eat.

I would have done the same, if I hadn't noticed that Hikigaya-kun hadn't even touched his chopsticks yet. Instead his eyes were glazed over and he looked at the small family with warm eyes that seemed dangerously distant. As if he was looking over a mirage from thousands of kilometers away.

It frightened me for some reason.

"Hikigaya-kun." I called out, and I'm relieved to see him tilt his head in my direction. "Is there anything wrong?"

He blinked several times before he giving me a questioning look.

"Oh shit, I forgot." Exclaimed Hiratsuka-sensei before I could speak. "Yukinoshita can you taste the soup real quick? How's the salt?" Her words were harried.

I raised an eyebrow, but dutifully took a sip of the broth. "The amount of salt is fine."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Hikigaya-kun start to eat. I didn't comment on the strange interaction that just occurred, but it gnawed at the back of my mind throughout dinner.

After the meal, Chief Tsurumi and Hikigaya-kun sat in the lounge. The TV was on, but neither were watching, instead talking about a case that was on their hands. I heard some mention of the hostage situation that had occurred earlier today and something about Shinjuku, but could catch nothing else. Rumi was laying down on the couch, leaning her back on Hikigaya-kun's side as she watched a variety program. Both seemed like the type to shy away from such things, so their closeness was quite astonishing to see.

Hiratsuka-sensei pulled me aside after clearing the table, taking me into the backyard.

"Sorry about being so pushy at dinner." Apologized my old club advisor. "I should have mentioned it before, to be honest."

"Mentioned what, exactly?" I asked slowly.

"I'm guessing you know about Hachiman's time in the military?"

I nodded. I was aware of the official record and the court martial details, but beyond that, it was all speculation.

"Well, he developed a few … 'peculiarities' about eating from his time in Sri Lanka." Hiratsuka-sensei reached in her pocket and retrieved a cigarette, and quickly lit it. She puffed out a cloud before continuing. "Apparently there was a critical shortage of food and water at some point. Rationing got extreme. Hachiman couldn't control his hunger one day, and he ended up eating an apple that wasn't allotted to him."

"What..." The air in my throat was gone and I couldn't continue speaking.

"Guilt's been killing him ever since, now he can't even think about eating unless everyone else at the table has taken their first bite." Hiratsuka-sensei chuckled beneath her breath. "Should have seen him when he was moving around the markets. He couldn't believe the amount of food he saw. You would have thought he never walked into a supermarket before."

"That's hor—"

"Taking pity on someone is a dangerous thing, Yukinoshita." Hiratsuka put a stop to my train of thought. "It ignores the struggle to overcome. Some scars don't heal, they come to define you, make you grow in certain ways. And I think, on some level, Hachiman is proud of how he managed to survive. It's turned him into a stronger person, despite all the darkness his thoughts swim in and the self loathing."

" _He's accepted who he is, and I can guarantee you that he's fine with things as they are."_

Nee-san's words came to the forefront of my mind.

"So…" I started hesitantly."What can I give?"

"... when Hachiman first moved to Shibuya, it was pretty bad. The constant lights and sounds gave him anxiety attacks. He had trouble staying consistent with his treatment. Trying to get him to eat was a chore, and some nights he couldn't keep his stomach down. Sleeping was another ordeal. He had nightmares so often he couldn't actually make it through the night and get some rest. When he did sleep, he'd end up sleeping for 14 to 15 hours and still feel exhausted.

"We couldn't get him to talk. He would bottle up his problems. So Kenji, Rumi, and I decided that if he wouldn't open up, we would force ourselves into his life. We invited him over for dinner constantly. Rumi went in the mornings to check up on him and make breakfast. We have impromptu parties in his apartment.

"I even forced him to get into my car. Taught him how to drive manual and practiced with him daily for months. I even gave my Aston Martin. I talked his ear off about cars, their parts, all that stuff all the time. Gave him a ton of auto magazines, and told him to read those if he couldn't go back to sleep on bad nights. Tried turning him into a gear-head, y'know?

"I thought that if that head of his was filled with all this material he wouldn't dwell on the scary things. Must of done something; prick thinks he's an expert now. Asshole corrects me with the smuggest grin. All that sass, why I oughta..."

I couldn't stop the small giggle that left my lips. It caused Hiratsuka-sensei to pause and catch herself. She gave me a sheepish smile before taking a deep breath. Her head turned upward and looked up at the sky, her face illuminated by the waxing moon.

"All of it worked somehow, and he started talking to us again. A few jokes here and there, maybe a smile or two. It relieved his parents and Komachi. Besides, he looks a lot less gloomy than usual lately. And I think I have you to thank for it."

"I-it was the least I could do," I said flustered. "I'm aware he's not the type to ask for help all the time… so I thought I could..."

I'm met with a bark of laughter from Hiratsuka-sensei. "There are a lot of things I was uncertain of in my life, but I'm glad I had you three in the Service Club."

Hiratsuka-sensei's eyes trailed back into the house, where we're met with an unusual sight. Hikigaya-kun was asleep on the couch, his hand in the middle of stroking Rumi's hair, whose head had fallen into his lap while watching the television. She was also in a deep slumber.

"Look at them, like actual brother and sister." Breathed Hiratsuka-sensei softly. "He's going to spoil that girl rotten, I can just tell."

She finished her cigarette and put the stub into a small pouch. "It takes time to heal, but Hachiman can do it. He's made it through hell once… and I had this hope that, maybe, you could help too. How about it?"

I opened my mouth and gave my answer.

Δ▼Δ

 **Chapter 14.5: "To Give Care is to Give"**

 ** _[Hikigaya Hachiman POV]_**

There's an old saying that goes along the lines of: "the state of a man's clothing reflects the woman he's with."

I found this to be too specific.

A man's clothing was dictated by those that lord over him. The serfs wore rough clothing because that's what their Lord's had forced them into. The master of a household forced his servants to dress a certain way. And this parity applied to men and women as well.

Any man will tell you that it's the woman who decides the rules for any sort of friendship or relationship. How often you meet, when you talk, what you do, the names you can call one another, etc. The woman was dominant in the social domain.

It went without saying, I was helpless in front of them.

And god help the poor soul that would try to stop the great blizzard known as Yukinoshita Yukino.

She had texted me in the morning, claiming that she was curious as to why I had worn my work attire to the dinner at Shizuka's.

" _If I'm not incorrect, you should have come home from work hours beforehand, no?"_

" _Well, you see, I don't have any casual clothing."_ I mistakenly admitted. _"It's not like I go outside for leisure or anything."_

All I got back was a text that ordered me to not move from where I was inadvertently lazing, which happened to be my couch. She was at my apartment door within half an hour.

And so, I was dragged to this mall in downtown Tokyo.

"Look. I'm not going to say that I don't mind being forced to leave the comforts of my own home to go to a crowded area full of normies and generally unpleasant crowds. Because I do." I started saying, letting the irritation slip into my voice like an intravenous drip. "So please remind me again: why?"

Yukinoshita turned around and pinned me with a petrifying stare. "Your lack of casual clothing is clearly an attempt at justifying to yourself why you shouldn't go outside on your off days or on free evenings. Pushing yourself back into the deplorable and carefree lifestyle of a shut-in."

I've been seen through!

Yukinoshita took my silence as a sign that I didn't have a rebuttal. She sighed in dismay and held a few fingers to her forehead. "You were so close to resembling a human being, just a little more..."

"Please don't make it sound like I'm some alien."

"Who knows? You might even have a reason to ask that secretary at your office out on a date if you had clothing for such an occasion."

It was my turn to stare at her, however mine was more questioning. "What does she have to do with anything?"

Yukinoshita's eyes widened in bewilderment before stomping past me. I caught some mutterings about the density of neutron stars or what not.

I increased my pace to catch up. "Is this even a good idea? My fashion sense isn't exactly bad. I can tell when something won't work. But I don't really have the nuance to figure out what style or combinations are 'in'."

"Worry not, Hikigaya-kun," she said with confidence, her back straightening a tad more. "I will graciously provide you my assistance on that front. I already have a grasp on some potential outfits."

Putting aside her snide _noblesse oblige_ , I think I could trust Yukinoshita's judgement. She asked me some brief questions: what type of store or type clothing I prefer. I wasn't too sure, but I said that I didn't like branding and prefer if they were reasonably priced. I wasn't too crazy on exotic or special materials either.

Yukinoshita tapped her chin. "So UNIQLO then?"

UNIQLO.

A clothing store that had outsourced manufacturing to China during the depths of an economic recession that hit Japan. By streamlining fashion designs and passing off the savings in manufacturing to the consumer, they sold quality clothing at low prices. This business model proved immensely successful, and they expanded into a global franchise within a few decades.

UNIQLO branded themselves as more than just a clothing brand, but a way of thinking as well. A philosophy on culture where they held a "steady consciousness of constant change, diversity, and the challenging of conventions."

Or so their brochure sasd, and I'm unable to make heads or tails out of the meaning of these words.

I took a good long look around the store. Neatly organized racks of pants and shirts littered the floor we were on, highlighted in contrast by the minimalist shelving and soft glow LED lights. Men, women, and children milled around, enjoying their day of shopping… somehow.

"I feel like a foreigner." I declared with the finality of a man on death row.

"Indeed, you do stick out like a common thug in a church choir." Yukinoshita didn't miss a beat and lambasted me. "Stay close to me. Hopefully my presence will override your own and people will hesitate before calling the authorities."

"There are so many things wrong with what you just said, but I feel like it's a useless task to argue them. Besides, I am those authorities they would call."

"Oh, my," Yukinoshita said in mock surprise, bringing a hand to cover her mouth. "I guess you can teach an old cat new tricks."

"You got the saying wrong! And I'm not even in my thirties yet!"

"Is that so? I apologize, your eyes make you look much older. Dead, in fact."

"Please apologize instead to my parents."

Our bickering ended as we reach the men's floor. Mannequins wearing the latest fashion trends stood on top of displays that held apparel of various colors. I was out of my element entirely, but had no way to retreat. I never went shopping for myself, I normally just tagged along with my mother or Komachi. They would pick out clothes and I would wear them. A simple method that worked pretty well.

Anyway, my recreational excursions were few and far between, even in high school when my social activities reached their numerical zenith. So there was never a need to coordinate an outfit. And nevermind dates, I didn't want to end up breaking into tears. Stay strong, Hachiman!

"Let's start with the bottom and work our way up," Yukinoshita said as she led me over to the pants section. "Jeans are most likely not a good fit for you. They inspire a feeling of youth and rebelliousness, but I do not think it suits you. You are much too dark and brooding, any attempts to appear younger would seem forced. Almost like you were being forced to fit in with middle schoolers at the playground."

"I get it, do whatever you want. Just please don't incinerate my self confidence any further."

"Is that so? If that's the case, what is your waist size?"

After the answer was given, she grabbed several pants made from chino fabric off the wall. After giving them the good ol' Yukinoshita Quality Check (which involved stretching the item in the 8 cardinal directions with enough force to make one of the store helpers nervous), she eventually decided on four of them: one black, one dark forest green, one tan, and one dark blue.

"If I know you and your loner tendencies, then you probably do not have the confidence to comfortably wear complex patterns," Yukinoshita said as I get pulled to the tops.

"What makes you say that?"

"Complex patterns such as stripes, plaid, or graphics tend to attract the eyes of those around you. Do you want that?"

"... I see your point."

Three long sleeve and three short sleeve shirts are added to our pile. All of them were a solid single color that was easy on the eyes. There were some interesting choices in there, like a mustard yellow shirt that looked oddly soothing to wear.

We shopped for a bit more, getting some miscellaneous items like belts and such before heading to the fitting rooms. I didn't appreciate the knowing smile the employee had when she handed us the tag for a booth. I could feel a bit of my soul escaping my body now that I've been associated with Yukinoshita in a public environment by other people. Like Faust and Mephistopheles, I'll be subjected to a fate worse than death should people I actually know see me now.

Yukinoshita gave me explicit directions on the combinations to put on and the type of style to keep with them.

"They fit pretty snug," I said as I turned around to get a better look at a combination of long sleeve shirt and chino pants.

"Loose clothing makes one seem childish." She came up to me and smoothes out some wrinkles before stepping back and giving me an inspecting look. "You are rather tall and physically fit, so you have a slender frame. It would be a waste to not utilize however few positive physical features you have."

My left eye twitched at the veiled jab. "Yeah well, 'it feels weird' was what I was trying to get at."

"You'll get used to it."

"So you say."

Yukinoshita moved behind me and fixed the way the shirt hitched over my shoulders, making it more comfortable. Her hands stopped moving and she stilled before giving me a query in a flat tone.

"Hikigaya-kun?"

"Yes?"

"What's this?"

"What's what?"

"On your back, near the waist."

"Oh, that?" I reached around and lifted up the hem of my shirt, showing her the grip and back of the slide of my P30L. "Just my pistol."

In a flash, Yukinoshita flew across the small dressing room and closed the curtains before coming right up to me. It was a distance so close that I was suddenly aware of how long her eyelashes were. Such a proximity activated all the mental sirens I had. My subconscious screamed at me to save myself.

"You brought a gun!? Here!?" She hissed quietly, reaching around and pulling down the back of my shirt to once more cover the pistol that was holstered to the small of my back. "Are you out of your mind!?"

"I have a concealed carry license!" I retorted, a bit flustered.

"There are children here!"

"It's not like I'm going to go around shooting people." I defended, a little peeved. "Besides, I can't leave home without it anymore."

"... what do you mean by that?" The aggression in her voice evaporated, replaced by confusion.

I scratched the back of my head, trying to find the words. "I mean… trouble seems to follow me."

"... do you expect danger even here?" she said breathlessly. Her tone stirred something insecure within me.

"I'd rather be ready and not need it, than need it and not have it. Especially with you being here. I'm not taking any chances."

"You…" Yukinoshita bit her lip with her fist clenched. "Honestly… I…" Her head tilted downward, her bangs moving to cover her eyes. Before I could say anything she leaned over and her forehead made contact with my shoulder. I was now supporting her body weight, and I couldn't help but marvel at how little she weighed.

"H-hey!?"

We stood there unmoving. My heart beat loudly in my ears. A few seconds passed before she spoke, "... thank you. For your concern." A whisper so low, I almost didn't understand her words.

"... you're welcome."

I moved my arms, but stopped part way, unsure of what I should do with them. My deliberation endd prematurely when Yukinoshita raised her head and stepped backward, clear blue eyes looking at me gently. My chest throbbed painfully, and I suddenly felt extremely self conscious.

 _This wasn't right._

"Let us continue, you still have a few more articles to experiment with." She reached up and grabbed a clothes hanger that was on a hook. It held a brown coach jacket that she removed and helped me put on. I also tried out a casual sports coat afterwards.

"Not bad." Yukinoshita nodded in approval as she motions for me to turn around. "Balancing formal outerwear with casual garb. You pass off the studious look well."

"Isn't this a bit overkill?"

"Not at all. You're a man with a career that can provide for yourself. You need to have confidence in that. This gives others the impression that you're well put together. All we need to do is get your pants tailored." She suddenly looks thoughtful. "But…"

"But?"

"Those eyes are going to ruin whatever clothing you wear."

Oh yeah, the obvious.

"Unfortunately, I can't go into public with a blindfold, I gotta make do with it."

"Actually… I have a theory."

We wrapped up our purchases at UNIQLO. There was a brief disagreement when I tried to pay for everything, but Yukino refused to let me. After some back and forth argument in front of an increasingly worried cashier, we ended up compromising. I would pay for the shirts and sweaters. She would pay for the pants and jackets, and I would have to consider it a gift. Done deal.

Or so I thought, until I found myself at the optometrist.

"As I thought." Stated Yukinoshita as she has me swap out different frames from my face. "Glasses improve the visual perception of your eyes."

"I don't buy it." I scoffed, I attempted to remove them from my face but Yukinoshita puts a finger out. She put exquisitely accurate pressure on the bridge of the frame, keeping them on my face and preventing me from taking them off.

"I am speaking the truth here. Hmm… I have decided." She looked at me with a serious and hard set stare. "Hikigaya-kun?"

"Y-yes!?" I reflexively answered and straightened up unconsciously, keeping my arms glued to my sides. Her voice had taken on a tone that eerily reminded me of my drill sergeant from basic training, the one that haunted the nightmares of all cadets. I just followed the instincts beaten into me.

"You must wear these whenever you leave the house."

"Not a chance." I denied instantly. "I don't even wear glasses normally! My eyes are fine."

"Hikigaya-kun, this is for the good of society and those around you. Purchase those with fake lenses and wear them so humanity can live in ease."

"N! O! _NO!_ I'll look ridiculous!"

"You already look ridiculous. I find myself doubting that it can get worse."

Damn, I couldn't come up with anything to say back to that.

"Alright… fine." I conceded bitterly. The feeling of defeat was slightly abated by the triumphant grin on her face.

We eventually went home, and Yukinoshita insisted on coming along to help me organize my closet while teaching me the proper ways of choosing an outfit. It was a bit tiring, but I appreciated the effort she was putting in.

"Thanks for today," I said to Yukinoshita as I walked her outside the apartment. "Even if it was absolutely exhausting."

"It was exhausting for me as well." Her lips curled into a teasing smile. "Exhausting to find not just one, but several ways to make you look presentable to everyone in public. An impossible task for most, wouldn't you agree?"

I couldn't help the chuckle that left my mouth, the action elicited laughter from Yukinoshita in turn.

"Well then, see you later."

"Yes, farewell." She walks down the block before turning around and calling out to me with a playful smile. "I expect to see you with those glasses the next time we meet."

"Yeah, yeah. Sure thing." One last wave and she's gone, walking towards the subway station a few minutes away.

Clothing may represent the women a man is with, but it also reflects their position in life. Being able to wear clean clothing that fits well and looks good is a sign that they managed to do something. That they were able to lead a decent life, surrounded by people that they cared enough about to look pleasant around.

I would have hated this supposed 'superficiality' in my youth. Something about conforming to the standards of those around you somehow stops you from being honest to yourself. In hindsight, it was self centered and bratty; spoken from a teenager who had no perspective. But I wasn't able to think like that now, because I saw things from the other side.

And I can't say I hate it.

Being told I looked nice made me feel good, as juvenile a feeling as it was. Knowing that, at the very least, my outward appearance wouldn't drive people away.

They'd give me a chance.

Optimism.

Huh….

I never thought it was possible for me to even feel this way.

 **Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**

References:

[1] Japanese phrase: "これはこれ、それはそれ"/ _"kore wa kore, sore wa sore_." Literally translated, it means "this thing near me is this thing near me, that thing near you is that thing near you." The localized translation is "this is this, that is that." The phrase is used to convey to the listener that two matters are unrelated, or that the condition of one will have no influence on the other.

[2] In this universe, Tom Clancy's "Rainbow Six" is a fiction novel about a special multinational anti terrorism force. No such organization exists (as far as we know).

[3] Aegis was the shield of Athena that bore the head of the Gorgon Medusa (beheaded by Perseus).

[4] Bell peppers and beef is an infamous meal that Spike and Jet eat regularly in the anime "Cowboy Bebop." However they regularly can't afford the beef, so it's Jet's specialty bell-peppers-and-beef-without-the-beef.

 **Author's Note:**

 **The titles in this chapter are "To Take Pity is to Take;" and "To Give Care is to Give." This is from the English phrase, "To take pity on..." The message I tried to convey was that pitying people does not help them. By pitying them you are inadvertently taking away their own dignity and value by making them out as a victim of circumstance rather than someone shaped by events.**

 **To truly say you care and feel for someone is to give them help and aid them out of a genuine wish to see them better themselves. Compassion should be for the person, not the effect of the event. Don't take, give.**

 **I used the "g"- word again. Ugh.**

 **-SouBU**  
 **(Editors: XioKenji; Lord of Admirals 412; Xynovitch)**

 _Revision Log:  
_ _03/17/2020: Re-uploaded with overhaul of tenses and changes in word choice and sentence structure as well as major grammar fixes._


	15. Ramen Arbitration

**Chapter 15: "Ramen Arbitration"**

A woman had come into the office just a short while ago. Clutched in her hands a manilla envelope, a sight that was becoming increasingly common throughout the building. She had long hair that was tied into a ponytail, whooshing to either side with her turning head as she surveyed the room like a lighthouse. I didn't recognize her. Maybe she was an intern or one of the scribes from Records or Signals? She was looking for someone obviously.

Well, I better not get in her way.

My mental sentence was barely completed before she walked up to my desk.

"Excuse me, is Detective Hikigaya here?"

As she spoke, her eyes flickered to the black plastic holder with a brass plaque that held Shiba's name on it. My own desk was currently being repaired after a leg had broken off, so I was borrowing Shiba's until then.

"Yeah?" I put my pen down. "What can I do for you?"

The woman's line of sight met mine for a moment, before she looked away way with rosy cheeks.

"I was told to deliver this report to Detective Hikigaya. It's from Detective Hiura."

"Oh, 'that so? I'll take it then."

As I reached out a hand to take the envelope from her grasp she quickly stepped backwards. "I apologize, but I was told to specifically give it to Detective Hikigaya. Not his partner."

What the hell?

"Yeah, I get it. So give me the envelope," I said exasperatedly.

"I understand that you wish to help, Shiba-san. But Detective Hiura was very explicit that I should give this to only Detective Hikigaya."

Did she just call me Shiba? Wait a second….

"Did he tell you what Detective Hikigaya looked like?" I asked, my eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Umm." She started nervously, her eyes moving around the empty office space. "He said that I should look for a creepy looking man without a tie. Eyes that look like a dead fish. He's also apparently super creepy."

She said creepy twice!? It's official, Hiura's name is going in my Death Note now. Enjoy your last moments in this world, Detective.

"Look." I sighed in frustration. "I AM Detective Hikigaya." I fished out my detective badge and ID card, showing it to the confused messenger. She at least had the good grace to apologize with a flushed and flustered face. She handed me the the report and gave a quick bow before quickly scampering away like a squirrel.

This was the fifth time today. Even Shiba had a double-take when he saw me this morning. I swear, what was up with people today? Was there something different about me?

I mean, I wore a tie today and it _was_ rare for me, but that wasn't anything special. Yukinoshita had taught me the double Windsor knot and it was rather easy to do. Oh yeah, I was wearing those glasses she forced me to get as well.

Really though, what gives?

I shook my head to clear it of those irrelevant thoughts. I tore apart the manilla and worked my way into the report, and was pleased to see that Hiura had come through once more. He was religiously pouring over the images and intel we were getting from our stakeout. He had been making careful counts of the color of the bottles that were seen in customer's hands on certain days as well as identifying some frequent customers by comparing them to the criminal database.

As I had suspected, blue bottles were sold on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Exactly one day after Fujiwara Eiichiro had said that shipments came to the docks. Alright, maybe I won't end Hiura's life then. He's useful, unlike half the people in this department. Still, correlation does not mean causation, we needed more evidence. And more evidence meant that the stake out had to continue.

I had another lead to look into right now anyway.

Δ▼Δ

The sound of the train as it rolled along the tracks was soothing. You probably heard stories from mothers who said how their babies would fall asleep while riding the train. Or fathers who would nostalgically tell how their toddlers would only slumber when in the backseat of a car while driving down the highway.

Apparently sleep deprivation and accumulation of stress would cause our body to be tense. As a survival mechanism, we only let our guard down in certain situations. A running train hits that on the head, offering a state of constant motion and an unchanging immediate environment. Once our guard is down, brain activity would slow and we would begin to doze off before falling into a deep sleep.

Which would probably explain why I was having an extremely difficult time keeping myself awake as Shiba and I rode the train that was going to the coast. My eyelids were getting heavy, but they suddenly snapped open at the words spoken by two young adult passengers who were standing to my right.

"You hear? About Thailand?"

"Yeah I did, scary stuff. My dad said that America's pushing its luck out there. That they're acting like the old British Empire, new age imperialism."

"Don't you think that's a bit much?"

"My dad's the tinfoil hat type, remember? And I think he's partially right on somethings. I mean, Thailand closed its borders to refugees because the UN and US wouldn't give naval support, right? I can sort of see why they would. Even in Japan it takes a lot of work to deal with them, and that's with help from other countries."

"But that's kind of childish, you know? It said online that they wouldn't even come to diplomatic talks."

"What? Really?"

"Yeah, and there are some rumors that Thailand is talking to China."

"Oh boy… that can't be good for our exchange trip to Thailand. Aren't we US allies?"

"Yeah, we are."

"This sucks..."

Shiba and I shared a glance before relaxing into our seats. Ten minutes later we arrived at our destination. As we stepped out of the station house and into town, we were met with the smell of sea salt. The noise was also noteworthy. Screeching seagulls fought for volume supremacy with the crashing of waves.

I took the familiar streets that transformed a concrete grid into roads that were lined with swaying trees and sandy beaches instead of sidewalks. I led Shiba to a strip mall that was a bit off of the normal path tourists and civilians walked down when they come here. Unlike them, my partner and I weren't here to enjoy the beaches or catch some waves.

We'd be eating some ramen.

Nestled between a convenience store and confectionary was a rather normal store front, the characters on the awning said that this was "The Ramen House." Generic as a title could ever be, but it also efficiently and perfectly communicated exactly what customers would get. It reflected the personality of the owner quite well.

I pushed open the door, my entrance signaled by the chime of a bell above. My nose was met with the exquisite smells of dashi, pork, beef, and other savory things. Bench seats flanked the walls of the restaurant, with wooden chairs and tables in the center. They weren't uniform, some being wildly different in color and design than others. As if they owner bought whatever they could find at hand from wherever.

There was not a single soul here, just what I would expect for today's meeting.

" _Higashiya? That you?"_ A male voice speaking Mandarin shouted out from beyond the counter, the steam obfuscating my view of him. A hand with a towel waved away the rising smoke and a man with slicked black hair and gray pupils appears.

" _Hey there."_ He raised a hand in greeting, the rolled up sleeves of his shirt revealed intricate tattoos of curling Chinese dragons. [1]

" _I'm here Min-san."_ I responded back. I gestured to Shiba to take a seat at the nearest table with bench seating, and slide in after him.

" _I see you bought Xianji as well."_ Noted Min-san with curiosity, giving Shiba the once over. [2] Shiba stiffened next to me in response.

" _He_ _is_ _my partner."_

" _Yeah he is. Almost forgot."_

" _How's that knee of yours?"_

" _Still attached and working, thanks to you. The other guy's in the back, I'll bring him out when he's done peeling the daikon. Sit tight for a few."_

" _I'll wait as long as you need. Your ramen's amazing, Min-san."_

" _Shut your trap. Enough with buttering me up, I ain't Shizuka."_

The Chinese man disappeared to the back of the store, leaving Shiba and I alone; only accompanied by the sound of a CRT TV that was hung high on a wall playing a soccer game. The voices of the commentators spoke quickly in another language, yelling 'goal' repeatedly when one of the teams scored in the brief moment I watched. I felt Shiba fidget to my side, and I passed an examining gaze over my fellow detective.

"You're still nervous about coming here?"

"Unlike you, Senpai, I can't speak Mandarin. Also unlike you, I can't forget things I see," Shiba said quietly, his voice a tad strained. "Aren't I the exact kind they hate?"

"Yeah, you are." I enjoyed the increasingly distressed look on his face. "But don't worry, I brought you."

"Senpai…" Shiba's eyes sparkled and his voice grew softer in elation.

"If you die, you can rest assured that I'll avenge you."

"You're going to let me die!?"

Our conversation was cut short by the sound of the employee door swinging open with the force and sound of a mortar shell.

" _Bafun!?"_ A high pitched voice calls out. Standing in the doorway stood a woman wearing a crimson cheongsam with golden embroidery. She looked to be in her late teens or early twenties. Her black hair had brown highlights that matched her eyes, and those very orbs seemed to light up when they met mine. She quickly skipped over to behind my bench and wrapped her arms around my neck and placed her chin on my shoulder.

" _It's been so long! Nice to see you again, Bafun! I almost couldn't tell it was you with those glasses!"_ She squealed in delight and squeezed me tighter. I heaved a sigh, having foreseen this encounter. It happened nearly every time I come here, afterall. _"So handsome! You sly dog, you. Wearing them just to see me?"_

" _It's nothing permanent, just trying them out."_ I tried to ignore the way she nuzzled her face into my neck. _"And hello to you too, Zhang Jiao…"_

Don't get me wrong, it wasn't because Zhang Jiao was repulsive or anything. In fact she had a rather pleasant perfume on. It was a bit spicy and sharp, but with a mellow backdrop. What kept me on edge was that I was fully aware of this waitress's motive here.

" _Bafun!"_ She moaned in despair. _"You don't call, you don't write! How can you leave me alone like this?"_

Zhang Jiao was originally born in China and grew up in a poor fishing village before coming to Japan on a worker's visa. Life was better here and she fell in love with the country and wanted permanent residence. Of course, immigration into Japan was a long and arduous journey. The chances of success we're also quite low. I'm not going to sugar coat things and admit that Japan likes to be insular. So, after much deliberation and planning, Zhang Jiao instead opted for the easiest solution: just marry a Japanese man.

And she chose me for some reason.

" _Bafun!"_

" _... hmm? Sorry, zoned out there. Could you run that by me again?"_

" _You're so mean!"_ She squeezed harder, the soft ivory skin of her arms coming dangerously close in my field of vision. _"How insensitive! How can you treat your future wife like this!?"_

Oh boy.

" _This is probably not a good idea… but what do you even see in me?"_

" _Oh!"_ Zhang Jiao sounded surprised. _"Umm… well..."_

" _... it's just my citizenship isn't it?"_

" _N-no! Let's see… Ah! You have a job. You have a car. And you're okay looking, I guess. I thought you'd be pretty desperate too."_

 _I'm_ the one who's desperate? Did she look in the mirror often? No, I can't get caught up in this, I need to prioritize avoiding the very real threat of a lifelong ball and chain. Keep calm, Hachiman.

" _Zhang Jiao, you can do much better than me, don't settle."_ I decided to try a new tactic: instead of denying, let's try offering a better solution. _"How about Shiba here? He just became single. Good guy with a stable job. He's responsible, has a nice car, best looking man in the force, and he has good credit to boot."_

Shiba gave me a questioning glance at the mention of his name. Luckily for me, the language barrier ensured that he had no clue I was potentially bartering away his future. Besides, I was singing his praises here. Aren't I a good partner?

Zhang Jiao seemed to consider my words for a moment before responding flatly. _"But Xianji is boring and plain."_

Ouch. I visibly winced at her words.

" _Zhang Jiao!"_ Barked Min san's voice from the kitchen area. _"I'm paying you to work, not to go window shopping!"_

Zhang Jiao sighed in defeat and removed the arms that encircled me. "I guess I'll take your orders then." Speaking in Japanese, the Chinese woman pulls out a small notepad and gets a pen that was held behind her ear. "The usual for you, _Bafun_?"

"Yup."

"What about you… sir?"

The hesitation seemed to hit Shiba's pride more than anything else, as he cringed over in his seat. "I-I'll take a miso ramen."

"Your orders will be ready in just a moment. Boss should be back to speak with you guys soon, see you in a bit, _Bafun_!" She blew me a kiss and pranced away like a rabbit.

Shiba and I turned to look at each other, a silent understanding between us.

"Women are devils," I said darkly.

"You're right, Senpai. I'm sorry for doubting you."

As Shiba finished apologizing for ignoring my golden advice, we hear the footsteps of two people walking towards us. Min-san escorted another man wearing a brown jumper and black jeans. He looked decidedly Japanese, no real distinguishing characteristics other than a dopey expression.

"Well, as promised, here are my contacts from the police force." Min-san gestures towarded us, speaking accentless Japanese in a suave voice that wouldn't be out of place as a narrator in a nature documentary about penguins. "Detective A and Detective B."

The unfamiliar man squinted at us. "I don't get their names?"

"I didn't tell them your name either." Min shrugged. "You know the rules: no info given until you sit down to talk. You paid me to set up this blind date, not to do the flirting for you."

"What the hell!? Why'd you make me peel so much damn daikon then!? It took hours and I cut my fingers a few times! It hurt like a bitch!" The other man looked affronted.

"You call yourself a man? It wasn't that bad, quit whining," Min-san said carelessly, and I struggled to keep a straight professional face.

"It was 12 fucking kilos, though!?"

Min-san gave a chilling grin. "Technically, you volunteered."

"You son of a bit—"

"It's fine, Min-san," I said, getting their attention. "I'm Detective Hikigaya. This is my partner, you don't need to know his name."

Nothing ventured nothing gained; a lesson I learned from my initial meeting with Min-san. It was risky, but he helped me get those two missing kids. He said I don't owe him after I managed to get him out of a hairy situation where he almost lost the ability to walk, but a part of me still thinks that my debt wasn't settled.

The man whose identity I did not know looked at me. There was some fear and apprehension in his eyes. It was the kind of nervousness you have when you have to tell your mom that you broke the crystalline flower vase your dad got her for their anniversary. Whatever this man needed, he was more scared of the consequences than of coming to the police. No point in playing hardball when he was already at two strikes and maximum fouls.

"Fuck. Alright, I'll bite." The man sighed and slid into the bench seat opposite us. "Name's Saito… wait a moment. You said your name was Hikigaya?"

"Yeah. What of it?" There was no way Saito was his real name, but getting him to talk was good enough for now. The rest could be extracted later.

Saito bent forward. "You the guy who's shot Ouma?"

"... yes." I admitted carefully. The information was pretty much public at this point, I would say.

My answer caused Saito's eyes to widen. "You're shitting me." He leaned backward, looking at me with an awed expression. "I was expecting Solid Snake or some shit. Maybe some meat-neck ex-JSDF bastard. Hell, an American even." [3]

My spine flinched uncomfortably at the accuracy of one of the guesses.

"Why's that?" Shiba asked for me, most likely because he was unwilling to let me do all the work.

"The guy who took out Ouma was a god damn sniper or something. Rumor is that there was an 8 centimeter gap between the two heads. That's fucking margin-of-error space." Saito tapped a single finger against the center of his forehead. "But he drilled the poor son-of-a-gun perfectly in the dome with a single round. No testing shots or anything, just one bullet."

"It was more like 14 centimeters; plenty of space for the average guy who practices. And I did take another shot before hand, so it wasn't that bad." I explained, turning my head when I hear the clatter of plates as Zhang Jiao appeared before us with three bowls of ramen on a large serving platter. She skillfully placed the food down, not a single drop of the soup falling from the lip of the bowl.

"For Deadbeat-san: shoyu ramen with boiled egg, extra nori and extra noodles." A deep colored ramen is put on the table in front of of Saito. He looks upset at the nickname, but wisely kept his tongue in place.

" _Xianji_ had the miso." The soup Shiba got was a pale color and had a strong smell that whet the appetite.

"Annnnnd!" With an excited voice, Zhang Jiao slammed a bowl that was easily twice the size as the others before me. "Tonkotsu ramen with extra chashu, extra noodles, extra bamboo chutes, extra nori, and a boiled egg."

"..." I'm speechless, and my brain couldn't think up a response in front of the girl who looked at me expectantly with a beaming smile. "...t-thanks." I managed to sputter out.

Zhang Jiao winked and walked away with the serving platter in hand. Three pairs of eyes follow her as she goes.

Saito cleared his throat. "So, uh, that Jiao chick. What's up with—"

" "Don't ask." " Min-san and I said simultaneously. It may be naïve, but we were the type of people who believed a problem didn't exist if we didn't acknowledge it. And as fellow men, we wanted to save Saito.

"Ooookay, got it." Saito clapped his hands together with a quick prayer and ate. Shiba followed, making a surprised sound at the taste. I started sipping the broth with my own spoon after him, pleasantly enjoying the salty and savory flavors.

"So yeah, you some competition shooter or something?" Saito asked between bites.

I raised an eyebrow. "You're still on about that?"

"Gotta make conversation somehow, yeah?"

"What is this? Twenty questions?" I asked incredulously.

"Come on smartass, are you?"

"No. I'm not. But enough about me, what about you? Why did you need to talk to me."

Saito smile flipped into a frown. "Going straight into it? No foreplay? Completely dry?"

I flashed a small grin. "Gotta make conversation somehow, yeah?"

"Damn. You're just like Min, for fuck's sake." Saito exasperatedly said as he dipped his head into his bowl to grab some noodles with his chopsticks. "Alright, fine. I need government protection."

"W-what?" Shiba coughed on his soup and beats his chest a few times to clear his airways. "Witness protection?" He coughed out.

"Yeah." Saito nodded. "I got myself caught up in some stuff and it's gotten too hot, trying to bug the fuck out."

"Back up a bit." I swallowed a bamboo chute. "What'd you get yourself into?"

"You guys are on the Ouma case?"

"We know of it." The lie easily rolled off my tongue, and I made sure to hide my eyes by looking downward and bringing a spoonful of broth to my mouth.

"Well, you know how they found drugs at his place?" Shiba and I nodded in unison at the question. "Well, that was my fault. He said he wanted to keep it for faster selling, so I let him. Ouma seemed like a smart guy; didn't think he'd go and try and shoot up a fucking bookstore. The fucking cunt."

"You're his supplier?"

" _Was_ his supplier." Saito emphasized the first word while pointing his chopsticks at me. "The drugs were supposed to be in my own warehouse."

"And why would this get you into trouble?" Shiba asked. "It's just lost stock at this point, isn't it? Who else had their hands in this?"

Saito's hands stopped moving and he looked up at us in disbelief. "... you guys don't know?" His voice was cautious and hoarse.

"... don't know what?" I asked, not at all liking the genuinely bewildered tone of his voice.

"You haven't seen card's like this?" Saito reached below the table and took out a black leather bifold wallet, opening it and pulling out a white card that he put on the table, equidistant from both sides. It was about the size of a credit card, and completely white with no markings. There was a strange swirl to its surface, the light bouncing off it in a peculiar manner.

"Can't say I have." I looked at my partner, who's eyes were boring into the object. "What about you?"

"I've never seen something like this Senpai." Shiba responded with a shake of his head. If Shiba never saw it, chances are I never did either.

"No fucking way… the fuzz don't know about them? You guys haven't brought in anyone talking about the things going on in the shadows?"

"Like what?" I split open the boiled egg with my chopsticks and mix the yolk into the remainder of the soup.

"There are rumblings going on within the criminal world." Min-san answered from the counter that he leaned on. "Some big fish are putting together bigger sticks and trying to keep everyone in line."

"Like… underground police?" Shiba was perplexed, his nori finally folds over and falls into the soup to his dismay.

"Ex- fucking- zactly." Saito affirmed. "Like the Gestapo. There are rules they're setting up. And they're trying to get everyone in on it."

"How? And who are they?" I asked.

"They're called the Families, and no one really knows who they are, but they're all over Japan. And they have serious dough and power. They're sucking up all the trade and tasks, it's impossible to make a living without contracting with them."

"Yakuza?"

"Who knows?" Saito shrugged with a middle hanging from the corner of his mouth. "Some people think they could be triads that got a foothold in the country with money from all the stuff going on in the SEA. Fucking vulture opportunist shit."

"What does contracting mean? What happens when you make a contract?"

"Well, you get a card with your name and some account tied to it."

"An ID card then, putting a name to a face. What's the account for?"

"Money. And the dark web. That's all I'm going to say till I get something from your side." Saito lifted his ramen bowl to his mouth and chugged the remaining broth before laying it down. "I joined up because I wanted to make money. I've been a middleman peddlar for awhile, they came to me asking if I would work for them."

"... and you can't say no."

"If I wanted to wake up in pieces, I'd say 'no.' You can't refuse the Families. As soon as you try to work outside their system and you have any sort of money, they'll fuck you over. Bulldozed. Taken out like like Monday's fucking trash." Saito looked at me intensely, killing my quip about Tuesday being trash day in this area before it could be said. "Seen it happen loads of times. People just up and vanish after a fuckup of some kind. Nothing too out of the ordinary in the biz, but what's weird are the rules."

"What are the rules you have to follow?"

"Well, I say 'rules', but it's more like one rule that has a lot of after effects."

"Which is?"

"'Never implicate the Family or the group.'" Saito swallowed audibly.

"But what does that mean?" Shiba's brow furrowed.

"Kid, don't you get it? I thought you were a fucking detective!" Saito looked annoyed. "Don't you see? They're coming and making rules for all the shitty criminals who want to make any real cash. They want to know who's who! Give us damn IDs, use the dark web. Only use one channel for the wealth, which is through them. It's like, like, like they'r—"

I suddenly remembered a conversation I had with two women so many weeks ago in an outdoor eatery.

"Like they're building a society." I finished cutting off the drug dealer. "They're trying to build a society for the underground."

"Yes! Yes! Yes! That's it!" Saito exclaimed. "It's called Sanctum, a haven for criminals or whatever the fuck."

At the surface level, I don't think anyone could blame me for doubting Saito.

An underground society for criminals? With ID's, rules, and whatnot? It sounded like something out of a James Bond novel; as in something completely fictional. However, truth is often stranger than fiction.

Saito didn't lie once throughout our conversation, beyond his name. That was to be expected, as well as spoke to the man's intelligence by not prematurely playing his hand. But not lying just means he's telling the truth… or thinking he's telling the truth.

And truth wasn't always fact with humans.

"Let me guess." I stuffed the last bit of noodle into my mouth before preparing to drink the remaining broth. "You gave the drugs to Ouma because he had someone who vouched for him, someone who was trustworthy. A frequent customer perhaps? Some medical student?"

Saito's eyes opened in shock. "What the fuck… how'd you…?"

I ignored the older man and lifted the bowl to my lips and audibly drank away. I put down the bowl, marveling that I was able to finish it all. "You said that the one rule was to never implicate the Family or the society. Ouma getting killed and his house raided revealed the drug supply, which was a bee-line to you. And because it went to you..."

"They're going to have me iced," Saito said in a lifeless voice. "Sleeping with the fucking fishes."

"Just like that? Even though it wasn't your fault?" Shiba asked, his eyes swapping between Saito and I.

"Detective _Xiangji_ , in the underworld the risks are greater for a greater payout. Those who can't minimize the error are liabilities." Min-san explained as walked forward to take our bowls. "If you're indirectly involved in something slipping up, chances are you'll do it directly at some point in the future. You're better off to the Families dead."

"... I can get the DA's ear to talk about witness protection." I started, leveling a flat stare at Saito. "But I'm going to need proof about this society."

"Proof? The shit I just said not good enough?" Saito looked disappointed.

"It's a fascinating story, and honestly I want to steal it to write some crime thriller novel. But I only believe things that I see."

"Shit." Whispered Saito as he wracks his head, trying to think of something he can offer. "Fuck. Alright, you said you wanted proof Sanctum exists? What if I get you inside it?"

"Inside? Like, as a member?"

"Kinda, I can get you a card like the one I have." Saito waved the white card in the air. "I'll show you how to use it after I get a guarantee for protection."

"If you're confident you can do that, I'll get you the guarantee after I get the card in my hands and you can show me that it works." I couldn't actually guarantee anything, but he didn't need to know that, nor did it matter. Haruno would probably do it anyway.

"Works for me," Saito said and held out a hand. I shook it without hesitation, aware that anything remotely sour at this phase in the negotiation could cause him to backout. He was our lead on Ouma, and possibly something even bigger. I couldn't let this slip.

"Hey, Detective." Saito called out, taking out a pen from his pocket and grabbing a napkin. "I gotta put a name on the card, I'm guessing you don't want your real one on there. You got one you can give?"

The gears of my brain turned, trying to think up a pseudonym. It clicks an instant later, and a cold smirk crawled up my face. "Sayama. Sayama Sayato."

Δ▼Δ

Saito had left after we settled the bill. Min-san would be our middleman through which we would contact each other, since neither of us would agree to give our phone number to the other. Shiba looked nervous at the exchange, but stayed quiet. After all was said and done, Shiba and I prepared to leave. As I slide out of the seat, Min-san's voice calls out to me in Mandarin.

" _Oi, Higashiya!"_

I stopped and turned around, seeing the Chinese man putting a hand into his apron pocket.

" _Does Shizuka still smoke?"_

" _Like a chimney."_ I responded instantly.

" _Yeah? Give her this then."_ He lobbed an object at me with underhanded throw. I catch it with both hands reflexively. It was a nondescript brown paper box. Opening it, I pushed aside the foil inner lining which revealed a set of Cuban cigars.

" _Why not give it to her yourself?"_ I knew these were expensive, too much to be a gift given so haphazardly.

" _I got this knee and all... can't go too far."_ Min-san broke eye-contact with me and rubbed his neck. _"... she still married to that bluecoat?"_

" _Yeah."_

" _Of course she is…"_ He let out quietly and with an exhausted breath. _"... well, there's another reason I can't go. Tell her to stop by, I got a new dashi in the works I want her to try."_

" _Will do."_

Δ▼Δ

"I'm home."

"Welcome home." Yukinoshita's voice rang out from the kitchen. "Dinner will be ready in a moment. Hiratsuka-sensei sent over some persimmons, help yourself."

"Thanks."

I had stopped questioning her sudden entries into my apartment. She would usually cook dinner every other day or so. And it wasn't like she was the only one that came in unannounced. Lately, Rumi had been here every morning, rather than the normal Wednesdays and Thursdays I had come to expect and think of as routine. She would also glare up a storm at Yukinoshita, who either did not notice or pretended not to notice. Shizuka would also accompany us for dinner occasionally, usually on the nights when the Chief had to work late or had a meeting that dragged into the evening.

My residence had become a busy crossroads.

Not in a bad way, it felt more… homey. I've been noticing small changes around the place that made it feel like a house where people actually lived in. For example, the kitchen had more aprons in it. The first one was brought over by Rumi, but now there were three for the three chefs that used my cooking area. The bathroom had some Pan-san printed towels, a gift from Yukinoshita after she threw out my own towels ("Rags." She insisted).

There was also a diffuser in the living room with essential oils that ran throughout the evenings. A comforting scent of bergamot and eucalyptus wafted throughout the house now. Shizuka also gave me a young lemon tree, and placed in a corner of the apartment. She promised that it would grow fruit within the year, before winter.

There were countless more that probably escaped my notice, with all my guests and freeloaders leaving something new with each and every visit.

Yukinoshita called me for dinner and we begin to eat. As we finish up she gave me a strange look. "You need a haircut."

My hand instinctively went up to my bangs and pulled on a strand. Yeah, it was pretty long.

"I'll get it done tomorrow." I could just grab a knife and trim it myself. If it looked fine on Kazuya Ryunosuke, should work for me too.

"Absolutely not." Yukinoshita put a stop to my train of thought. "I know that look: it's the sign of a terrible idea. Stop that plan this instant, you cutting your own hair is a recipe for disaster."

"How did you—?"

"I think Hiratsuka-sensei left her salon supplies from last week, give me a moment to locate it."

Next thing I knew, I was seated on a kitchen stool with a blanket tied around my neck, the floor beneath my feet was covered with a tarp of newspapers.

Yukinoshita had her hair done up and took up position behind me. And so the artist began her work; the shears her brush, my unruly hair her canvas.

"Have you been wearing those glasses like I said?"

"Yeah I have. It's annoying, everyone won't stop talking to me."

Not to mention wearing glasses seemingly made everyone forget that I was indeed, Hikigaya Hachiman!

The sound of her snipping my hair overlapped with light hearted laughter. "How tragic. The Loaner King identity of Hikigaya Hachiman, which he spent years creating and refining, falls apart with the addition of glasses."

"All I did was trade in my own crown and scepter for the Pauper's clothing. With this new found power of camouflage, I can further immortalize the legend of the Loaner King by penetrating enemy ranks."

I heard her sigh in disappointment and I felt victorious.

"Do you have any plans on returning to Chiba soon?"

"I can't really see it, the current investigation's progressing slowly as is." I admitted a bid sadly, I did miss Komachi and Kamakura. And I guess my parents. "We're understaffed, so a lot of us have been pulling double duty in regards to paper work."

"Just be careful not to overwork yourself."

"I've learned my lesson the last time. Three of you girls on my ass for the same mistake was too much to handle."

And that wasn't including the ultimate mother hen: Detective Shiba Suzaku.

Our small talk goes on for a little more, as Yukinoshita took her time with my haircut. She used her soft and slender fingers to position my head this way and that. A nudge to my cheek to turn my face to the side; a little grab to my chin to tilt my head upward. Her hands were surprisingly warm and I squirmed a little under their touch.

I shivered when I felt her fingers brushed over my ear and let out a strangled breath.

"What's wrong?" Asked Yukinoshita worriedly.

"M-my ears…"

"What about your ears?"

"T-they're sensitive."

"Is that so?" I could almost hear her eyes narrow. "Is this the Achilles heel of the Perverted Loaner King?" She followed this up by pinching my earlobe causing me to yelp.

I was caught between heaven and hell. "I give, I give! Have mercy, please!"

She took a few more seconds to tug on either of my ears before letting go with a satisfied chuckle. She tells me to keep my fetishes under wraps while she was working.

"It would be a shame after all…" she says with a dangerous glint in her eyes, "... if I happened to cut off those otic organs of yours."

Hence forth, I stayed more stoic and still than a possum caught underneath a flood light.

"I was recently contacted by Hayama-san."

"Hayama?"

"Hayama Hayato, do you not remember him?"

Ah yes, Hayama Hayato. My rival. My archenemy. My foil. My antithesis. The bane of my existence. The man who I hated, and who hated me. But of course Yukinoshita, I do remember that THING.

"Hayama-san had told me that he wishes to organize some sort of high school reunion. He had inquired about you, and if I was still in contact. He wishes to passalong greetings and invitation to such an event to you."

"Get real. I'd rather die than go. In fact, I'd rather die than accept greetings from that man." A light bulb goes off in my head. "Actually, I have a better idea. Pass along my greetings instead: I hope HE goes and dies."

"... I forgot that you two never really did reconcile after the events at the end of our second year in Soubu." She sighs.

Yukinoshita moved to my front and brushes down my bangs. She leaned over, a hand measuring the length of the hair that hung over my forehead. I couldn't help but notice the way her shirt fell down due to gravity, the neck gap becoming large. Her milky white skin and collarbones were too alluring and it led my eyes to make the startling discovery that I could fully see down her shirt.

Huh, she wears black now? That's mature and sensible… but oddly erotic? I would think she'd still wear something a bit more soft, maybe lime or light blue. That would contrast well with her skin but still keep that dainty— what the hell am I thinking? No! Bad, Hachiman! She'll cut your ears off, if she notices!

I quickly closed my eyes shut, and held them like that as she cut away at the front of my hair. I was lulled by the sound of the rhythmic snipping and Yukinoshita's soft breathing. My sense of time became distorted to the point that I didn't notice when Yukinoshita had stopped cutting away some time ago and was pulling my hair back and used a rubber band to hold it in place.

"... what are you doing?" I asked in trepidation. She didn't answer and instead handed me a mirror so I was able to gaze upon her completed work.

The haircut was good, looked almost as if it was professionally done. As surprising as it was, we were talking about Yukinoshita Yukino here; the only things she couldn't do were things she had no interest in (like being sociable, heh).

The overall length of my hair was shortened, but was still long enough for her to take the strands at the center and top and pull them back and held with a rubber band. My bangs were allowed to fall over my face, shorter than before so I could see clearly. The trademark Hikigaya ahoge was still omnipresent. My usual annoying strands were expertly snipped away as well.

It doesn't look too bad, but I don't like how it makes me look like an ikemen. [4]

And thinking of ikemen reminds me of that Damned Handsome: Hayama Hayato. Accursed normies, any sort of association with any sort of Hamaya-itis was absolutely and strictly forbidden!

My thoughts were broken when I noticed Yukinoshita taking a photo with her phone out of the corner of my eye.

"Hey!" I exclaimed indignantly. I got up to grab the phone, but she nimbly dodged away, the waist long strands of her hair escaping my fingers like wisps of black smoke.

"It's too late!" She laughed. "I've already sent it to Yui-san, Komach-chan, and Nee-san."

"'Nee-san?' You text casually with Haruno?"

"Is it that far fetched?"

"No, no!" I shook my head and backpedaled quickly. "I, uh, just wonder how it's been between you two… since then. You look closer… but…"

"Well… Nee-san still teases me and embarrasses me in public." Yukinoshita put on a soft smile that made my heart beat a tad faster. "But I enjoy the moments we share. We look eye to eye on more things now. And there's mutual respect and care." She looked at me. "It's almost like the relationship you have with Komachi-chan."

"Speaking of, how did you keep up with Komachi?"

She looked at me in disbelief. "You did inform your parents you were sued, correct?"

"I did."

"Nee-san had contacted your family, and she spoke to your sister. She passed along her number."

Apparently they had some good talks over the past few weeks. Komachi had been telling Yukinoshita about my eating habits and health. I wondered why Komachi hasn't told me about this? This was a serious security hazard, my peace of mind was at stake!

I reached up to undo my hair, but I'm quickly stopped by Yukinoshita whose fingers wrapped around my wrist and pulled downward.

"You musn't." She chided with a small pout. "I put in a fair amount of effort, you know?"

The grip she had on my wrist tightened, her eyes were full of steely determination. I sighed deeply before agreeing. "Fine. I'll try it out for a week."

She already had me wearing glasses, a little more change couldn't destroy my rock bottom reputation could it?

I ate my own words just a few moments later, when my phone buzzed in my pocket, notifying me of incoming text messages.

Surprise, surprise: it's Komachi.

She sent a string of text messages at a rate faster than a machine gun. Much of it were laughing emojis; _["LOLs"]_ ; and _["LMFAO's"]._

She followed it up by soul crushingly stating that I looked like I was going to apply for a boy-band. Specifically for the cool-nerdy-guy poser position who probably sang baritone with a face of complete apathy. [5] C-critical hit…

Yuigahama sent me a mail too, surprised at the sudden change in hairstyle. _["But it suits you!"]_ she followed up.

Ah, Yuigahama, the angel who heals my broken ego.

However, my phone was not done. It had achieved its final form and became the harbinger of doom, because to my complete and utter horror, Haruno also had something to say. My trembling fingers tapped the notification box, opening the message.

 _["OMG it looks great on you! What a stud! Total lady killer! You're stopping by the office tomorrow, right? You gotta sit down for lunch, the ladies will love it! Oh poor Morimi-chan…"]_

My fate was sealed. As soon as Haruno's brain began scheming, the universe bent to ensure it occurred. I could only suck it up and (foolishly) hope for the best.

What did Secretary-chan have to do with this anyway?

 **Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**

References:

[1] Min and Zhang Jiao call Hachiman by the Chinese pronunciation of the Kanji characters that make up his name. Hikigaya Hachiman is (比企谷 八幡), and the romanization of the Chinese pronunciation is " _Higashiya Bafun._ "

[2] " _Xianji_ " means "camera" in Chinese. Min's nickname for Shiba is literally calling him a "Camera."

[3] Solid Snake from the Metal Gear and Metal Gear Solid franchises. A crack shot with the pistol, he has some ridiculous moments with a gun in hand in the game "Metal Gear Solid: Twin Snakes," the remake of the original MGS for the GameCube. Some anime stuff, that game was.

[4] "Ikemen" are good-looking men who are synonymous with being "cool" and "exciting." Their stereotypical image is that of a mysterious man that is sharply dressed and has a manly build. Complete with pale skin, having a smell akin to detergent, husky voices, and slender wrists; these men are the heartthrob of Japanese women all over.

[5] Baritone singers have voices that are between bass and tenor voices. Baritone voices have a heavy and impactful sound. They are sometimes used to portray tragic heroes, but more appropriately in this setting, they are usually used by the actors of villains.

 **Author's Note:**

 **Slowly but surely, we're discovering more about the strange connections Ouma has and the seemingly endless, but invisible trails that lead everywhere. Hachiman learns of a secret society as well. Interesting...**

 **I had recently discovered that the last volume to Kamisama no Memouchou was translated, so I gave it a read. Ended up marathoning the entire anime as well for nostalgia's sake. It did influence the personalities of the characters introduced in this chapter.**

 **Min is the suave Chinese informant who runs a ramen shop, I imagined him to be like an Asian James Bond. He's had a few run ins with Hachiman in the past, and is also familiar with Shizuka (full transparency, Min had a crush on Shizuka).**

 **Zhang Jiao was based on Yi Ling from Volume 2. Yi Ling wasn't that stand out a character, but I just found her dialogue to be fun and memorable.**

 **Finally, I giveth thee more fluff. Inspired by a similar scene from Full Metal Panic!**

 **The haircut Hachiman gets is based off of the work of 00Choir. I have a copy of the artwork as well as a link to his twitter page, just go to my profile page bio and click the Unmade Mechanics and Details link.**

 **-SouBU**  
 **(Editors: XioKenji; Lord of Admirals 412; Xynovitch)**

 _Revision Log:  
_ _03/17/2020: Re-uploaded with overhaul of tenses and changes in word choice and sentence structure as well as major grammar fixes. Edited author's note to be more succinct._


	16. The Day is Yours to Take

**Chapter 16: "The Day is Yours to Take"**

 _Our squad was down to a group of 8. All were men. And because we were men, that meant that we were humans. And as we were humans, we were vaguely familiar with the process known as 'childbirth.' But we were also men, so we never really needed to worry about it, unless our significant other were to carry our offspring._

 _Even then, men never experienced the struggle that is childbirth: the pain, the exhaustion, the sheer force of life finding its way._

 _It was nearly midnight._

 _Probably._

 _It was hard to tell exact times, the only person sophisticated enough to have a watch was the resident Brit, Corporal Benson. Unfortunately, the made-in-China Rolex knockoff was shattered to pieces when Benson fell trying to avoid a sniper._

 _5 of us were huddled around a small fire. The atmosphere was tense, you could see it in their eyes._

" _You find anything good, Sarge?" Takuya asked._

 _I snapped the book in my hands shut. It was a small thing, about 4 centimeters in width and 5 in height. It was a thick paperback with tiny English text. In this country, this was the only source of literature that I came across. From what I was told, everything else was either burned for censorship, or used as kindling to keep the fires going in poor villages._

" _Well, this Christian Bible isn't exactly giving me a step by step guide to obstetrics. I would hazard that it's a poor substitute for a medical textbook," I sarcastically said._

 _I had read this book nearly a hundred and ten times. The charcoal marks on the back cover kept track of each front to back complete read. It also kept me sane by keeping me aware of the passage of days. I'm starting to be able to recall entire passages in English as well. So that's another plus, I guess._

" _Although it does make for great drama." I added in edgewise._

" _Of course." Benson agreed, nodding his head slowly. "How can we forget about the greatest performers of Western civilization? The Father, the Son, and the Holy MacGuffin."_

" _Uhh…" Danny, who was sitting off to my side looked nervous. "Lets tone it down a bit. We need all the luck we can get. Don't want to gamble it, should Mr. Lord-Up-High exist. Not that I'm religious, or superstitious, or anything…"_

" _So, you're just stupid then? Good to know you're learning some self-awareness, Danny." I quipped, the joke causing chuckles to erupt among the group._

 _We went silent as we heard a shriek. It wasn't loud, but it was clear._

" _Gosh." Whispered Danny as he wiped the sweat off his brow, despite it being rather cool this evening. "I feel like my stomach's doin backflips. And it's not even mine!"_

" _Where's the husband?" Asked one of our rifleman, Abid, a soldier from Bangladesh who had been on a tour of duty with the UN Peacekeeping forces._

" _With the mother, and the Doc," I said and tilted my head in the direction of a small thatched hut. It had slim windows that let out an orange light from the few chemical lights we had. No expense was spared for the ordeal at hand._

" _Really makes you think." Benson drawled as he shoved another piece of wood into the flames and stokes the fire. "My mother said that my father was the one who was a crying mess when I was coming out."_

" _Sounds like an alright lad." Abid responded with an amused smile._

" _Dad's a good bloke." Benson shrugged and stares into the flames, as if the flickering light and heat were showing some memory of a better past. "But I've just been wondering what I'll be like when it's my turn to sit through it."_

" _You're expecting?" I asked, a bit surprised._

" _Nah." Benson shook his head ruefully. "Got married and all, wife's over in Gloucester. No kids yet."_

" _You're married, Benson!?" Danny asked in amazement._

" _Why do you sound so surprised?" Benson frowned. "I'm 30, you muppet. The right-hand can only do the job for so long."_

" _Danny doesn't even have a girlfriend yet." I smirked, and enjoyed Danny's troubled expression. "Probably wondering what your secret is."_

 _Benson closed his eyes and nodded slowly, seemingly having understood all that could be conveyed in my single sentence. "I can't be the only person with a girl. I know Abid has an arranged marriage coming up in a year or two. What about you Sarge?"_

" _As if." I snorted loudly. "No time, no hope."_

 _Danny sniggered. "You're right about that Sarge. Which girl would be crazy enough to go out with you?"_

" _None apparently. At least I know the world still has some sane people left."_

" _Yeah?" Benson asked dubiously. "Then what was that picture you dropped the other day? Those two pretty ladies just friends?"_

" _I thought we swore to pretend that didn't happen!?" I exclaimed, feeling betrayed. I have shoved that photo of the last meeting of the Service Club deep within my pack along with another photo of my family. Komachi also slipped one of Kamakura in without my knowledge. Can't believe I'm saying this, but I miss that fat furball._

" _That so?" Benson whistled innocently, his eyes looking everywhere but at me. "My mistake, must of slipped this old noggin of mine. What about you Takuya? You got a lass waiting for you back home?"_

" _Yes, I do." Takuya responded simply. "Keiko has been my girlfriend for about three years now. I met her before I started basic training. I was supposed to be home for her birthday."_

' _Before this happened' was the part left unsaid, but was also unneeded._

" _Shiet." Danny cursed, leaning backward and crossing his legs as he stretched. "How do you think she's holding up?"_

" _I don't have any idea. We've never really had large issues in our relationship, so I could never see her behavior in those circumstances." Takuya clasped his hands. "She's probably worried. Or she could have assumed I'm dead and moved on."_

" _Oi, oi, oi," Benson said quickly. "Don't think like that! She'll be waiting there for you, just you wait."_

" _Thank you, Corporal Benson. But a bit of me hopes that she has. What if I die? I don't want her to be sad. If she's happy with another man in this time, I think that's enough for me… But at the same time I don't want to let her go. Stupid isn't it?"_

" _Not at all." I chided. "It's understandable. Emotions are complex, and we're creatures of emotions. So we're complex too. In a bad way."_

 _Our conversation died abruptly as we heard the sound of footsteps against the grass, all of us going quiet like school boys in a classroom when the teacher walked in. Five faces turned towards the newcomer, his shadowed form becoming visible when he stepped into the light of the fire._

 _It was Doc, the oldest person in our squad. Short dirty-blonde hair and narrow brown eyes set on a face as sculpted and angular as the bust of a Roman Emperor. His facial expression was a severe one, and he looked over us before speaking with the weight I would imagine Caesar's voice must have had when he told his army of his intention to cross the river Rubicon. [1]_

" _Her water broke, I need someone to help me with the delivery. Which one of you pansies is up for it?"_

 _We're silent, trading looks with one another. It was hilariously ironic, any of these men would be more than willing to place their lives on the line for others and wouldn't hesitate killing the enemy to save their own. However, put them in a situation where they can save a life? They become frozen stiff with fear. I could almost hear the female population scoff, 'Men…'_

 _As much as we pretended to be strong and powerful, the fact was that we were as unsure of our own abilities as we were of the future. No one wanted to be the one to make the mistake. It was not out of selfishness, but out of the insecurity of their capability. They couldn't ensure 100% success, and even if it was 99% to be successful, they would still lose sleep over that 1 in a 100 chance for things to go wrong. They didn't trust that they wouldn't be that 1%._

" _I'll do it." I stood up and brushed my pants._

" _Thanks, Hikigayam," The Doc says as he turns around to lead me. "We need to get your hands disinfected. Or as disinfected as it can get, I suppose. Come."_

 _I followed the back of the lone medic in our team, Murdoch. His skillset was invaluable, and I would often exclude him from missions simply because I couldn't risk him in any capacity. I also appreciated that he called me by my name. It may be because it felt like he didn't have any expectations of me, and I felt more relaxed around him than anyone else on my squad. Which was a funny thing, because we rarely talked._

 _The Doc led me behind the house where he had warm water and a bit of soap set up. He had me wash my hands and then dumped them in alcohol for good measure. He opened the door with his elbow before marching in with me trailing after. The thatched hut was small, but everything could be seen because of the lights we had put up. It was also well ventilated._

 _There was a woman on top of a mattress that was filled with hay. She had a large purple and red gown on with dark stains all over. Her husband sat by with a panicked expression, holding his wife's hand until his knuckles turned white. His face showed relief when the Doc and I came close._

" _She's having stronger contractions." Informed the Doc as he walked up to her, he makes eye contact with the mother to be, who nodded back. The Doc reaches down and pulls up the gown, revealing her bare legs and crotch region. I would have been embarrassed were it not for the situation._

 _The Doc pointed. "Her cervix is starting to expand, she's entering true labor now."_

 _The woman suddenly yelped as her body shuddered, her hand squeezing the fingers of her husband. She screamed some cuss in Sinhalese that I'm familiar with, but have no clue what it meant._

" _Is... she in pain?" I asked nervously._

" _Pain? Maybe. Her body's going crazy, releasing tons of endorphins right now. Who knows how she's perceiving this shit now."_

" _O-oh."_

" _Once the cervix hits 8 or 9 centimeters is when the second stage starts." The Doc fixed me a hard stare. "I'll need your help then. This isn't a hospital, and I have no meds to give her for an epidural. We're doing a natural birth. Just like cavemen."_

" _..."_

" _..."_

" _... is that really an appropriate comparison?"_

" _... probably not."_

 _The Doc had me lay down blankets beneath the woman in preparation for the trial to come. I waited next to him, watching as he gently asked questions in Sinhalese to the woman and her husband. Understandably, they were afraid. She had become pregnant during the civil war, and with the destruction of the village and the death of many of their family and friends, they weren't sure if it was even possible to give birth while on the run._

 _They saw this as a miracle, a child being born in this chaos. The father profusely thanked the Doc and I as we waited with him for the delivery, making me feel increasingly self-conscious. But the Doc was stoic as an owl, his eyes never leaving his patient; always asking questions to make sure he was aware of everything._

" _Hikigaya." The Doc called my name softly, and I turned to face him._

" _Yes?"_

" _Do you have any siblings?"_

 _The question surprised me momentary, but I answered. "Yes. I have a younger sister."_

" _That's it? What's the age gap between you two?"_

" _Two years."_

" _Ahhh, so you were too young to remember her being born then."_

" _Guess so. Would they have even allowed a two year old in the waiting room?"_

 _The Doc chuckled wryly. "Probably not. I have a younger sibling, a younger brother. I was 12 when my father remarried, and I was 13 when my stepmother gave birth. I wasn't in the room with my father and her, but I was close enough that I could hear everything."_

" _... what's it like?"_

" _Honestly? Terrifying. I had never heard a grownup scream as loudly as she did. Every time I heard her yell, my heart would do jumping-jacks. Her labor lasted an eternity, 7 hours I think. But it all ended when I heard this tiny voice start crying. It was magical."_

" _Are you and your brother close?"_

" _I would think so. I haven't seen him in years. He was doing computer science. Kid's good with tech. He broke down the printer in Dad's office to make an RC car. Programmed it himself and everything. I wanted to buy him a new computer with the hazard pay, but who knows now."_

" _..."_

 _The conversation ended, and I sat back and waited for my duty to come. The silence continued like this for two hours, only broken by the occasional murmur of the Doc or a moan from the pregnant lady._

 _I could tell when the transition happened. It was marked by the mother suddenly screeching and screaming about how she felt as she was experiencing an earthquake._

" _Show time," said the Doc as he moved up and waved for me. "Cervix has gone as far as it can go, prepare for discharge."_

" _Discharge?" I squeaked. That did not sound pleasant._

 _Before the Doc can answer, a flood from between the woman's legs landed on the towels. My mind goes blank as my body freezes at the crimson floating on the cloth_

 _All I saw was red._

 _There was blood._

 _So much blood._

 _The screaming of the woman suddenly reminded me of that horrible night, where I heard women screaming and crying just like her before going silent after a round of gunfire. And this happened throughout the night, but all I did was lay down beneath a pile of bodies. They say blood has no smell, but that's a lie. It had a taste, and taste was half determined by smell. Blood smells like copper and salt and—._

" _HIKIGAYA!" Roarrf the Doc, causing me to flinch and snap my head in his direction. His eyes were furious and I could see his lips curl back into a feral snarl, as if he was about to bite my head off. "Don't you fucking look away! Don't you fucking DARE!"_

" _I-I—" I stammered, unable to stop the tremors in my hands, as if I had developed late stage Parkinson's on the spot._

" _This isn't like those shithead soldier's you play mind games with! You're not here to shoot at any fucking badguy! We are trying to preserve two lives here, so wake the fuck up and get your head straight! Or God so help me, I will be the one to end you! Die on your own if you want to, don't drag others with you!"_

 _I shook my head rapidly, clenching my fists to stop them from shaking and tried to wipe away the tears trailing down my face. The Doc was right, this wasn't the time. I shouldn't be the one crying or freaking out, there was a mother here trying to give birth._

" _Yes." I stood next to the Doc._

" _Hold her legs in place." Ordered the Doc firmly. "Her contractions are trying to deliver the baby. She's losing feeling in her lower body now, so we could have issues. Don't let them close."_

" _Understood."_

 _I still winced with every shriek and howl from the mother. The Doc tells her to push occasionally, and she trieD to comply, but I don't know how much she was able to comprehend in the midst of this ordeal. I did my job and kept the legs stable and spread, sometimes having to use a bit of force to do so when she tried to bring her knees together reflexively during her painful bouts. I kept my eyes trailed at the cervix, and soon we see a flash of flesh as a small head seemingly slides out._

 _The Doc rushes to clean the head, wiping off clear fluids. He reaches in with a finger and seemingly checked it's throat._

" _Umbilical cord didn't wrap around the neck. Holy shit, we're lucking out. So far so good. Thank you, fucking God. A smooth delivery so far. Jesus fucking Christ. Sweet mother of fucking Mary. Holy Ghost do your magic." He whispered, his cursing and pleas mixing into the strangest prayer._

 _The woman's body shuddered once more and she screamed her husbands name, the man's face pale like an apparition as he encouraged his wife as best as he could._

" _Shoulders are out! Keep pushing, keep it up! It's almost out! Come on kiddo, you ain't even out of the womb, don't give your Ma a hard time!" Exclaimed the Doc, as he placed his hands near the exposed baby._

 _With an unnervingly wet pop, the baby came out. Quickly springing into action, the Doc held the newborn by it's stomach and began rubbing it's back. I heard soft whispers from the Doctor as his hands moved in circular motions along its diminutive back._

" _Come on, come on. Speak to me, little one. Tell me how pissed you are that we took you out from that nice place. How we pulled you from a warm safe place into this shit hole of a world. Come on, please. You ha—"_

 _And then we heard it. Like the sound of a bell, the infantile wailing of a crying babe echoed throughout the room. The atmosphere was suddenly one of elation as the Doc gently lifted the child and carries it over to it's absolutely exhausted mother._

" _It's a girl. She needs skin to skin contact. But I also want her to stay warm, wrap her with some blankets." The Doc told me._

 _I did so in a heartbeat, and in the process I see him clamp down on the umbilical cord with two pieces of string before using a combat knife that had been disinfected as much as it could to slice the rope of flesh. Separating the connection between mother and child, and symbolising the start of her life. Work was not over yet, as the Doc let me know that the mother had yet to deliver the placenta._

" _Brace yourself. It just started to separate" He warned. "Alright Mom, give me one last push."_

 _Within seconds it's out, and a strange smell fills the room. It wasn't a bad scent. But it was something primal, yet comforting. I was reminded of times I couldn't quite put my finger on; a most bizarre sense of nostalgia. I had a silly thought that perhaps I was remembering my own time in my mother's womb, so many years ago. Maybe humans never forgot the comforting presence of that space? Maybe we go through life trying to capture that feeling again? To find that exact smell. To find that exact warmth._

 _Pfft, as if._

" _Hey." Called out the Doc to me. "Come here."_

 _I walked over slowly, and the mother flashed me a tired, but thankful smile. The father gently took the child from the wife's arms and holds it out to me._

" _O-oh!" I cradle the bundle of cloth and squirming flesh, noting her red and wrinkled skin. I could feel the heat from her tiny body. I felt the nearly unnoticeable, but unrelenting beat of her heart that barely larger than a walnut. All within a body that was beginning to take over it's own functionality. As if learning to survive the second she left the womb; an almost poetic description of the human condition._

" _It's over…" I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "It's finally over…"_

" _That it is…" Agreed the Doc with a nod of his head. "Good work, Sarge. We'll make a medic out of you yet."_

Δ▼Δ

A bird whistled loudly, letting me know I was awake despite my eyelids being fully shut. I slowly let them loose, allowing light to enter my retinas, feeling oddly… at ease. Refreshed almost. Without moving my head I rotated my eyes to look out the window, noting the sun pouring in. A gentle warmth that was very… familiar.

I reached out from under the covers and towards the night table at my bedside, in the process knocking over a yellow paperback book that I had been reading last night. I had made a good amount of progress into _"The Conquest of Happiness."_ My fingertips felt the cold touch of my smartphone's screen. I picked up the metal and glass device and press the lock button to wake it and check the time.

It was 6:55AM.

 _Carpe diem._

Let's seize the day.

Δ▼Δ

"Which one do you want, Senpai?"

"... there any chocolate frosted?"

"Just one, here you go."

"Thanks, Shiba."

"Don't mention it."

Shiba and I were huddled over a box of donuts in one of the meeting rooms, passing careful gazes over our shoulders to ensure the covertness of this delicate operation. Putting our collective minds together, we managed to find a solution to the coffee issue. We would only bring as many instant coffee bags as we needed per day. The smell would definitely attract some busybodys, but of course you apologize and say that you had but 'one bag that was just used.'

It was genius.

We carefully brewed the coffee, while indulging in the donuts from an open box that was left on the table. I took a thoughtful bite of the multipurpose dessert that could also serve as breakfast and even lunch in a pinch. I swallowed before asking Shiba. "So, we found nothing?"

Shiba blinked at me, and swallowed his chewed food before washing it down with his premium instant coffee. I gave myself a mental pat on the back. Damn, this was such a good idea, why didn't we think of this earlier?

"That's right." He put his cup down on the table. "No blood along the plumbing, no body parts in the sewers. I think it's safe to assume that Aoi Kaito wasn't split and flushed like Melekhina-san."

"Well… if it's not murder, I guess this is easier. As horrible as that sounds."

"I think Senpai's right on that front. Kidnapping is far more difficult than murder. You have to transport the victim; feed them; give them the ability to use the bathroom; and if the perpetrator has a day job or something, that's easily 6 to 8 hours the victim is left unsupervised. Tons more ways for it to go wrong, we just need to wait for that mistake."

"Only a matter of time, huh?" I asked, voicing my thoughts as I took another bite of my donut. I was a bit annoyed that all the sprinkles were bunched together in a small area. Was this an aesthetic choice or a mistake? Either way it wasn't functional enough to be justified.

"Only a matter of time." Shiba agreed.

"Unless Aoi was killed after being kidnapped," I said offhandedly before taking a sip of my own coffee. I hummed as the warm liquid trickled down my throat and filled my body with a comfortable heat.

"Well… that's the worst case scenario. But Aoi is an adult man, not a child." Shiba mulled over the words.

"We don't know the motive." I pointed out. "Unless we count what Saito said."

Shiba grimaced, looking unsure. "... does Senpai believe him?"

"Not a chance." I snorted. "But me believing it or not is irrelevant. I'm human, so I'm fallible. If he can turn up proof, we can assume they silenced Aoi for rule breaking."

The sound of the door swinging open caused both of us to jump and turn around. We were met with the sight of an unusually haggard Detective Hiura. He had a rather dashing blue and black striped tie on.

"Hikigaya! Shiba! I've been looking all over—" The older detectives exclamation ended abruptly as he looked at the foodstuffs in our hands with shocked eyes. "Where'd you get those?"

"Ah, Signals' higher ups had a meeting today. These are the leftovers." Shiba explained innocently.

"Wasn't that meeting not going to end until an hour from now?" Hiura asked in disbelief.

"Seems your intel is outdated, Detective Hiura." I was barely being able to conceal my smug grin.

"The scribe who usually recorded the minutes was out sick, so they decided to shorten the meeting," Shiba said as downs the rest of his coffee. He proceeded to walk over and throw out his paper cup into the recycling bin.

"How did I not hear about this?" Hiura asked to no one in particular.

"You see, Detective." I rested my elbow on Shiba's shoulder. "Shiba here is my reconnaissance silver bullet. Radar, satellite photos, radio, codebreaker, and database all rolled into one. Nothing can top him."

"I heard about it from Morimi-san at the reception." Shiba revealed with a stiff smile.

"Hush, E-767. Do you want to be decommissioned and replaced by UAVs?" I threaten. [2]

"From the secretaries?" Hiura frowns. "Shiba you're a womanizer too?"

"W-WHAT!?" Shiba nearly spat out the donut he was chewing.

"'Too?'" I repeated. Which other riajuu bastard did Hiura hang out with? By that wording, doesn't he mean someone in HQ?

"Well you see, at the last bar meetup, the boys from Burglar— no wait why are we on this topic? I came here to give you guys something." Hiura shook his head, as if trying to refocus himself. "We have another lead in the Aoi disappearance."

He handed over a folder to me, which I quickly unclasped and opened. There was a single black and white photo. It was of low resolution, but despite the graininess I could make out a familiar male silhouette that had a bookbag in hand. It seemed like an apartment complex with doors at uniform distance to one another down a long hall.

"Is this Aoi?" I ask.

"We think so. I found the footage while I was looking for matches with the laundromat stakeout data. It was taken in Ikebukuro."

"Is this all? Any witnesses or police reports?" Shiba asked when I pass the photo over to him for inspection.

"I'm in the process of getting street and traffic camera footage around the complex. Already checked the reports from that, and surrounding precincts. Nothing."

"This feels like a wild goose chase." I sighed, feeling a bit spent just hearing the news. "Why can't we just jump in a car and check out the entire district right now?"

"Senpai, I understand how you feel, but there's a process so that the entire system can work to it's best possible level. Bureaucracy is a necessary evil." Shiba tried to console me.

"Yeah, well. I don't have to like it." I huffed. My words were petulant, but my patience was wearing thin.

"Chief said he's gonna start making those two task forces soon. Maybe by the end of this week." Informed Hiura. "I'll keep you up to date on the Aoi case and the laundromat stakeout."

"We'll do the same about the Ouma case." I promised in return.

I still had that one potential lead. It all depended on whether Saito could come through or not. Hold on, that reminds me...

"Hiura!" I called out to the detective just as he was about to close the door while exiting. The door stopped part way and he looked at me with a questioning look. "Does the word 'Sanctum' mean anything to you?"

"'Sanctum?'" Repeated Hiura, his eyes squinting as he visibly concentrated. "No, can't say it does. Why?"

"No reason, I just heard it myself on the street. Wondering if It was some new gang or whatever. I guess it might be a new video game."

"Oh. It could be, but they haven't done anything yet if they do exist. Haven't heard of a new organized crime ring pop up for a while. You could try Records."

"I see. Sorry for holding you up.".

"Alrighty then. See you two later!"

"Bye, Hiura-san!" Shiba called out.

"Peace…" I held up a hand .

Δ▼Δ

I burst into my apartment, gasping for air like a fish out of water.

The cold air from the climate controlled space was a respite for my sweltering body. Today was the hottest recorded day in August within the past ten years. Absolutely searing sun and humidity that turned the air into tree sap. To make things even worse, there weren't any winds to circulate the sweat off of our bodies. It was an oven on broil out there.

And in this hell, I had attempted to finish up the last of my paperwork I had to submit to Records before the week's end. Progress was slow, but reasonable. I could see an end to the tunnel of labor I had consigned myself to. A 'career' some called it.

What I could not foresee, however, was the actions of Secretary-chan. From the moment I stepped into the building, her eyes wouldn't leave me. A chilling feeling was permanently crawled up my back all day, and it would always originate from the stare from that same bemused female office worker.

I made the first mistake of sitting near her for lunch. I say 'near' but I was a good 3 meters away at a separate table. But I had entered her zone of vision, no longer covered by the fog of war. [3] My table was also empty, inviting Secretary-chan to slam her tray down and sit next to me. Closely sit next to me. Like really uncomfortably near me. Any closer and we'd be joined at the hip.

"Can I help you?"

My second mistake was to acknowledge her presence. This just incensed her to start asking some very strange questions.

" _What brought on the change?"_

" _Oh you wear glasses? You didn't before, did someone get them for you?"_

" _That's a nice haircut."_

" _Is there a girl you're seeing now? Is this her work?"_

Her friends joined us like fruit flies to a rotting steak. The table filled up with women I had never seen before, all interested in the personal details of my life. As one would expect from the gossip-starved wasteland that was the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department.

" _A friend told me to try it out."_ I tried to say in an effort to deescalate the talk. This was an absolutely surreal feeling, being on the opposite side of an interrogation for once.

" _A girlfriend perhaps?"_

My third mistake was to admit I was single. A flurry of excited chatter led me down the rabbit hole of a particular brand of human social phenomenon that I can only describe as 'the Hurricane.' An event where the blathering of unclaimed women stood testimony as their claws grabbed onto their latest comrade (read as 'prey') and pulled them to their lair. The conversation evolved and shifted faster than my antisocial mind could process it.

I was the poor damsel that was surrounded by Mad Hatters.

At some point I found myself agreeing to go to a mixer with a few of them this weekend, potentially my fourth mistake. The harpies left me alive after I made my promise. I quickly grabbed whatever work I had left and quickly went home, eager to regain my normalcy.

Of course that was then, this was now.

Sitting at the dinner table was Rumi, surrounded by papers, open books, and writing utensils.

"I'm home."

"Welcome home."

Ah, the apathetic response with no energy and care that alleviated the irritation from over exposure to human interactions. Rumi, I thank you for your presence.

I removed my jacket and holster, putting away my gun safely before I sat down at the foot of the table, opposite from Rumi. I took out the various forms and reports I had to complete from my work folder. A note from Haruno fell out, one that thanked me for my hard work while also dripping in sarcasm. I would be touched, if I didn't know she was just trying to get a reaction out of me. It worked.

Rumi and I worked in silence, and I noted the serious look on her face as she stared at a paper with her pen hovering above it.

"How's school going?" I asked.

"Fine." Her face never left the paper. I'm not satisfied with this response. Alright, time for a more provocative question.

"You still have your friends?

Her head snapped up angrily. "Of course I do!"

"Sorry, sorry. Just checking." I apologized quickly and without any remorse. Not like she'd believe it anyway. "I just wanted to make sure you were enjoying your 'youth'."

"Hachiman… does anyone tell you how annoying you are?"

"Annoying? I'm sorry for being concerned with your social capabilities."

"That's rich. Coming from someone who has few acquaintances and even fewer friends." Her eyes widened momentarily, as if she just remembered something vital. "Ah, sorry. I meant 'no friends.'"

"Okay, that sounds familiar. Too familiar. You need to stop hanging out with Yukinoshita this instant. She's turning you against me!"

"You're being weird, Hachiman…"

Our dramatically blank faces broke down, and we shared a grin as we returned back to our work, a comfortable silence befalling the two resident loners as they chipped away at their tasks. Half an hour became an hour, and I noticed that Rumi was still occupied on the same paper she was when I sat down.

"You having trouble there?"

"I guess…"

"What is it?"

"Future career survey."

What melancholy words… they brought up some rather unpleasant memories. Like a certain middle aged teacher who ridiculed my desire to be the patriarch of the family from home, welcoming my wife from her work as I took care of the kids. Tch, such a wonderful world could not be realized because of bias.

Damn you, society!

"No idea what to put? You haven't given it a thought yet?"

"It's not that I don't have an idea about it..." She trailed off and looks away nervously. "But…"

"But…?" I repeated trying to elicit the response out of her.

"... promise you won't laugh?"

"Sure."

"... I want to do something… where I can protect justice…" A blush adorned her face adorably as she fiddled with her hands. "Just like Dad, Uncle Kenji… and you."

It took a moment for me to digest the most unlikely words to have ever come out of her mouth.

"Heh heh." I started chuckling which became gleeful laughter. "Ha ha! What's up with that anime-like answer?"

Her face erupted red like a volcano. "Stupid Hachiman!" She started throwing her pencil case and erasers at me in rage.

"I think that's a great idea." Still laughing, I covered my head with my arms to protect myself from the projectiles fired from Mt. RumiRumi. "Just not too sure if it's a good idea to have me as a role model."

"Nope!" She stuck out her tongue at me. "You're actually the role model for what not to be if I want to be a useful member of society."

"Oi… cheeky brat."

At that moment the apartment door opened and a harried Yukinoshita entered, arms completely covered in plastic bags filled with groceries.

" " Welcome home." " Rumi and I greeted in unison.

This seemed to catch Yukinoshita off guard, as she stared at us with wide eyes before blinking and giving us a cautious smile. "Y-yes! I-I'm home. Thank you."

I got up to help her, and took some bags from her hands and carried them into the kitchen. I began to put away the items before I noticed the sheer quantity of the stuff she had brought.

"A lot of things you got here. What's the occasion?"

Yukinoshita blinked at me before cocking her head and giving me a pointed look, confusion evident on her face. "Your birthday is tomorrow… is it not?"

"What?"

I'm dumbfounded and quickly turned my head to look at the wall clock that had the date on it. My eyes scanned the LCD screen and confirmed that it was indeed August 7th. The day before my birthday.

"Oh yeahhhh…"

Yukinoshita sighed and rubbed her forehead. I actually felt kind of embarrassed by her reaction.

"Shizuka told you yesterday." Rumi grumbled. "She said that she wanted to do something."

"I have no recollection of this." My stomach dropped, and I'm suddenly feeling like I made a colossal error.

My answer set Rumi off, as her obvious anger rose proportionally with her voice. "Shizuka called Komachi and Isshiki! They're coming over to celebrate your birthday! You said that it was fine while you were on your phone!"

Ah… to think I had made the fourth mistake yesterday.

'Listening-Without-Needing-To-Listen' was one of my 108-Loner Skills that allowed me to pay attention to conversations while being preoccupied. By having a set of predetermined responses to certain types of questions I could speed through a conversation without having to engage fully.

The fatal flaw of this technique was that sometimes it would backfire spectacularly in certain circumstances. Like this one.

"Hiratsuka-sensei asked me to cook for the party," Yukinoshita says as she inspects a tomato with elegant fingers.

"Excuse me?" I asked dumbfounded. "Where is this party going to be held?"

Yukinoshita and Rumi shared a blank look before turning to me and answering in unison.

" "Right here." "

 **Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**

References:

[1] The river Rubicon was used to mark the border between Italy and Cisalpine Gaul during the time of Ancient Rome. The law at the time forbade any acting general from marching past this river unless given permission. However, Caeser's authority and chance at power was being cut down by the Senate, and he ordered his Legions to march on Rome. He famously said _"Alea iacta est"_ ("The die has been cast"). Shortly afterwards, Caesar was declared Dictator for Life.

[2] E-767 is a reference to the E-767 AWACS, the plane the Japanese Self Defense Force's fields that serves as their airborne warning and control system (thus the acronym . It has a rotodome on its back that produces a pulse-Doppler radar. UAV is an Unmanned Aerial Vehicle, or a plane controlled remotely like in a video game. These have been acting as reconnaissance planes for the past decade, since it can spy with little risk for pilot safety. It has also been caught in controversy, where armed UAVs hit civilian areas because of misidentified targets.

[3] A reference to Starcraft II mechanic (which is an appropriation of the military term). A player that does not have a friendly unit in a location will see that area covered in a gray fog, and so lack any sort of ability to glean intel from it.

 **Author's Note:**

 **This is a prelude to the special birthday chapter. A lot of things have been going on as of late. Seeing the process of pregnancy and the struggles my sister went through at my current age (where I actually understood things) got me philosophical. It was what inspired the first-scene: a flashback in Sri Lanka. I had wanted to have a scene where it was a happy outcome as well as a learning moment for Hachiman. While he suffered in the jungles, he also witnessed some amazing things. I also took it as an opportunity to flesh out some of the squad Hachiman operated with. I hope you all enjoyed it.**

 **Special thanks to Sabel-Pixel who proof-read and double checked the accuracy of the portrayal of childbirth. Second scene is just me poking fun at the stereotype in America that the police are donut-eating fiends. It's a setup for events to come. I Decided we needed a bit more Rumi, and I wanted to express that she has future goals and aspirations herself. Dreams that are influenced by the people close to her whom she idolizes or respects. We shall see more of this… eventually.**

 **We finally broke 100k words! Thank you to all my readers and to my editors Lord of Admirals 412 and Xynovitch.**

 **Special thanks to my longtime friend, editor, and muse: XioKenji. He's left the writing team to handle IRL matters and I wish him the best of luck and my eternal gratitude. "Unmade" would have never seen the light of day without his encouragement and support. Thank you!**

 **-SouBU  
** **(Editors: XioKenji; Lord of Admirals 412; Xynovitch)**

 _Revision Log:  
_ _03/17/2020: Re-uploaded with overhaul of tenses and changes in word choice and sentence structure as well as major grammar fixes. Edited author's note to be more succinct._


	17. Clash of the Titans

**Chapter 17: "Clash of the Titans"**

 _Fox._

According to Merriam Webster, it could be defined as "any of various carnivorous mammals of the dog family related to but smaller than wolves with shorter legs, more pointed muzzle, large erect ears, and long bushy tail."

Simplified: the sneaky bastards were (commonly) orange furballs with legs, that trotted across the countryside as if they owned the place. They were large vermin; an annoyance to any complex agrarian society.

You can't trust a fox. Hell, they looked like dogs, but sounded like cats! This was proof that they were duplicitous right down to their genetic level, as evidenced by their conniving phenotype.

They were famous for stealing livestock and food from unaware farmers. They'll steal two chickens in front of you, and then a third when you're not looking. When you come searching for your lost property, you'll be relieved to find those two lost chickens. Blissfully unaware of your net loss, and none the wiser that one of your birds was being gouged out by a smug fox somewhere in the forest.

Their ability to evade hunters had driven the value of their fur sky high. To catch a fox was a feat. But good luck with that. Their tunnels were burrows complex enough to give the Japanese train system a run for its money, with multiple openings and exits that lead who knows where. Foxes always had back up plans. They were always scheming. Foxes made sure to profit at the end of conflict, even if they lost. A victory in defeat.

In mythology and culture they were shown as clever and deceptive. Foxes manipulated the foolish with almost comic grace. And just like in real life, they were crafty. Their plans were elaborate, yet daring and bold. All the while allowing them to achieve their objective.

My theory? The fox was a symbol of three main characteristics:

Calculating, finding clever and unique methods to problems to better humiliate your prey. Constantly be making new circuitous operations such to keep your mind busy, and your opponent's mind numb from attempting to keep up.

Deceptive, they'll fool your senses first, then fool your reasoning next, before finally fooling your body. Not a single thing can be trusted at face value with foxes.

Manipulative, able to turn the tides of the people around you to do the hard work so you can swoop in and claim the prize with no effort.

And I could think of no better person who fit this description than the girl standing in my doorway while staring dumbly at my face: my foxy ex-kouhai, Isshiki Iroha.

"Yeah?" I asked, my brief word came out nearly like a bark.

Isshiki looked at my face, blushed and immediately bowed. "P-pardon me! I must have the wrong apartment, I'm so sorry for disturbing you."

I felt compelled to close the door, if only to save myself from being embarrassed by proxy. When the door clicked shut, I heard the sound of Isshiki breathing deeply on the other side, as if she had just resurfaced from a deep dive.

My phone buzzed as I got a text message from the girl in question.

 _SENPAIIII_ (●o≧д≦)o _! Did you really send me the right apartment number!? I can't believe you thought it was necessary to lie to me! How could you!?_ ( ͒˃̩̩⌂˂̩̩ ͒)

This had to be a crime somewhere. Can someone charge this girl for exclamation-point abuse? [1] Throw her into solitary confinement while you're at it.

I opened the door and meet with a flinching brunette. "This **IS** my apartment."

"... Senpai…?"

"Yes?"

She peered at me as if she was nearsighted, eyes squinting as I'm analyzed like some sort of lab specimen.

"... Senpai always had potential, but his density and laziness hid it. But that's good, it means less competition. But he's unlocked it with just glasses and a haircut? No way. Were my calculations all wrong?"

Rapid whispered underneath her breathe made it impossible to fully comprehend what she was saying. No matter.

"Oi, Isshiki, you coming in or not? And what's wrong with you?"

Isshiki shook her head. "No, Senpai just looks different."

"Yeah well, just trying something new."

"I like it!"

I stepped aside to let her into my apartment, where she was immediately greeted by an irate Yukinoshita.

"Isshiki-san, you're the last to arrive despite me giving you clear instructions." Chided Yukinoshita with arms akimbo.

"Ah! Yukinoshita-senpai! Welcome back to Japan." Isshiki ignored the lecture without the slightest concern and quickly flasheD a gigawatt smile and hugged Yukinoshita tightly, much to the older girl's surprise and embarrassment.

Indeed, Isshiki was the late comer to my impromptu (to me) party. The guest list was pretty stacked. Besides us three, Komachi, Yuigahama, Shizuka, Chief Tsurumi, and Rumi were in attendance as well.

Komachi had mentioned that our parents had wanted to come, but they were given emergency business trips at the same time. The astronomical odds of his happening go beyond bad luck, and my heart went out for my poor mother and father. But alas, such is the life of corporate slaves. Sucks to be them.

… wait, didn't I work crazy overtime hours too!? I'm no better than them!

To rid myself of this depressing epiphany I decided to find something to distract myself.

"Komachi-chan!"

"Iroha-chan!"

Isshiki and Komachi greeted each other warmly and shared a hug before quickly shooting off into their own world of conversation. The two somehow became close friends over the years. Isshiki had taken a year off after graduating high school to work in order to pay for her college schooling. She and Komachi were enrolled in the same college and business program and somehow became best friends while I wasn't looking.

I mentally prayed that Komachi has the strength to deal with the vixen.

I milled around the apartment, talking to friends and family at a sedate pace. I tried to be mindful that I had to be a good host; grabbing them refills when their cups were empty; throwing out trash for them; and making sure they were having fun… or rather as much fun as someone can have when you're playing.…

"Tut tu ru!" [2] Exclaimed Komachi as she held up a box. "It's time to play some games!"

As she spun around like a ballerina, my eyes caught the red object in her hands. "A Nintendo Switch with Mario Kart as my birthday present to my favorite Onii-chan!"

"I'm your only Onii-chan!"

"Yes, yes!" Komachi ignored me and looked over at the gathered guests. "Did everyone bring their joycons?"

Surprisingly, Iroha, Rumi, and Shizuka did. They held up their controllers with faces of pride and anticipation.

Why did I feel like they practiced exactly for this moment?

As my little sister and Iroha got to work setting up the video game console, I felt myself breaking out into a cold sweat. A cursory glance at the Chief had us share similar concerned expressions.

"Hikigaya-kun?" Yukinoshita asked as she came up to me. "Why do you look so worried?"

Oh yeah, she's a sheltered rich girl. She wouldn't understand our fears.

"As you may know, Yukinoshita-san." I began, my voice dripping with gravitas. "Nintendo may be the pride of Japan and a golden example of quality and innovation to the world, all the while being family-friendly… but they hide a sinister agenda."

"Sinister… agenda?"

"Yes… you see Nintendo's wish — no, Ultimate Goal — is to turn everyone in the world into loners. Loners who will buy and play their games, starting an addiction where video games replace the friends that you lost."

"..."

Their party games were designed to thrive on random chance and cruel decisions. To win you must steal items from your friends, a permanent black mark on camaraderie you had developed. [3]

A couple madly in love would separate because the choice over who should be sacrificed to proceed would drag feelings of selfishness out of them. Destroying the compromise the relationship was built on. [4]

A 10 year, rock-solid marriage fell apart because of miscommunication and poor instructions while they tried to run a virtual restaurant. Now suddenly aware that they never truly had chemistry. [5]

The player at the back of the pack would get a blue shell that ruined the perfect race that 1st place player was running. Stealing away victory when it was so close at hand. Forever instilling a grudge that carried on into the grave and then the afterlife. A curse to forever haunt future generations [6]

"And that is why… I worry." I finished.

Yukinoshita gave me a look as if I was the smallest, most disgusting bug in the world.

"Absolutely incurable." Was her only response as she turned and walked towards the couch, where the rest of the guests were gathering for a night of family-fun gaming.

… or so I hoped anyway.

The games began soon after, and the Chief and I shared another look before coming to a silent agreement: we would lose to ensure that the firecracker women in the vicinity did not blow the apartment to kingdom-come, or turned it into a crime scene with chalk outlines on the floor.

Yukinoshita struggled to understand the controls and mechanics of Mario Kart during her first heat. But as expected, an intense look came to her face as she wrestled with her joycons, her competitive streak showing. It seemed Shizuka and Komachi did indeed practice, learning the optimal racing line for all the tracks, getting ludicrous lap-times.

Isshiki strategically held onto items, using them at the perfect moment to destroy the race for those behind her. I was once subject to her using a Bullet Bill when I was right in front of her. It was a rare top 5 position for me… before the fox did her deed. I had wanted to stop playing then and there. However, I understood that the cruel god known as Mario-Kart-kami needed a sacrifice if the peace was to be kept.

Surprisingly, Yuigahama was the one who had won the first heat, her luck with items giving her an advantage that led to her just inching past Shizuka and Komachi for first place.

The second heat was a fearsome battle between Komachi and Shizuka. The newly minted house-wife had barely beaten out Komachi in points before the final race, where Komachi missed a boost-pad by just a sliver of a pixel and was instantly sent to 8th place. I did my duty as her Onii-chan and consoled her as she cried into my shoulder as the jingle for her receiving second place in the championship played patronizingly throughout the room.

However, no one noticed the dark horse, Yukinoshita Yukino, who had steadily crept up positions since her first race. After the second heat she was solidly in third place. Yukinoshita had learned the maneuvers and strategies her opponent employed, and had gained experience in how they were used in the fiercest of competition.

She was ready.

And the short age of Ice Queen domination came upon this small apartment in residential Shibuya with the final three heats. Every corner she took? Absolutely perfect. Every drift? Never off its optimal length exactly 10 pixels off the curb. Items? Used to greatest of effect. She was like a wall.

No, she was THE WALL.

THE WALL that knew you better than you knew yourself; blocking any and all attempts to pass or catch her slipstream. Every win was accompanied by a tiny fist bump of sweet victory that I couldn't help but crack a smile at. It was just that adorable.

As if channeling the spirit of Ayrton Senna, Yukinoshita showed us how superior she really was in her fourth heat. She was part of another caste. Made of different stuff. A higher being. She saw God when she drove in the game, letting us heathens hear the Gospel as her kart came to lap us in due time. [7]

The last race of that heat was on Rainbow Road. The Ice Queen took no prisoners as she finished 30 seconds faster than her nearest rival, Hiratsuka. The loss was especially vexing for the older woman, who had boasted ahead of time that that dangerous circuit was as familiar to her as her own hometown.

"She didn't just want to beat me! She wanted to humiliate me!" Roared Shizuka through tears of anger into her husband's shoulder. [8]

"Doesn't she get embarrassed when she says lines like that?" Rumi whispered to me.

"Don't question it if you value your life." I whispered back.

Shizuka turned up the oppression in the fifth heat, goading Yukinoshita with words in real life. She was trying to throw the cool, calm, and collected example of nobility off of her game. My living room had become a battlefield where libel was slung instead of bullets. The tension had become so thick that I could see the aura of their fighting spirits clashing above their heads, accompanied with metaphysical lightning.

Unfortunately, Shizuka hadn't calculated one thing in her game plan to mentally crush her former student: Yukinoshita Yukino's tongue was eve sharper than her driving.

She ruthlessly cut down Hiratsuka-sensei in a gruesome verbal massacre.

"Hiratsuka-sensei, please remember that you only recently got married after nearly two decades of being single. I'm surprised you have not learned some lady-like tact and sensibility from all that experience."

"Are you unable to act your age?"

"Aren't you ashamed that all the friends you have are younger than you?"

"Do you use us as a means to vicariously and foolishly believe you are our age?"

"You determine your own self worth using a video game? How pathetic."

Shizuka was a crying mess by the end, indistinguishable from a wailing banshee as she sobbed to her husband that those words weren't true. Right? RIGHT? I ignored the panicked look in the Chief's eyes. He had bomb defusal training, I'm sure. I was confident the experienced officer could handle the situation. I saluted in my head: godspeed, sir.

At that moment, the angel known as Yuigahama Yui descended from the heavens and tried to ease the tension.

"W-well!" She exclaimed, loudly clapping her hands once to get our attention. She stood with a nervous smile. "How about we eat dinner? I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving!"

No one disagreed.

Dinner seemed to bring everyone's mood back as conversation began to trickle once the food was spread out. The Chief was talking amicably with Komachi, which wasn't surprising since he tends to dote on girls, a trait he and the Captain shared (guess it ran in the family?). Komachi could get along with anyone, but she seemed to really enjoy the Chief's company, almost seeing him as an uncle.

Yuigahama seemed especially surprised to see Rumi. As expected, Yuigahama's straightforward personality was too much for Rumi to handle and the anti-social teenager receded into her shell like a frightened turtle confronted by a curious puppy. Yuigahama tried to make conversation but was only to be met with a poker faced Rumi. On the outside, she may seem aloof and uncaring, but in reality she was a panicking mess whose brain was desperately trying to find a way to deal with the situation. I tried not to laugh at the sight, aware that Rumi would hold it against me for a while.

Shizuka, Yukinoshita, and Isshiki were discussing the job market. Isshiki surprisingly had a good grasp of economics and the politics surrounding it. The talk attracted the attention of Yuigahama who excitedly asked Shizuka for advice, as the former student was trying to become a teacher as well. Shizuka seemed elated at the news of Yuigahama's career path, and eagerly gave detailed advice as well as some underhanded tips.

Everyone was catching up. Like a biological database, the statuses and conditions of these acquaintances were updated over a single meal. It was a delicious affair, with people flanking either side of me, engaged in lively conversations. I was suddenly glad I had an appropriately sized table.

It made me recall when I had first moved into Shibuya a few years ago. I was shopping for furniture to fill the empty apartment with. My mother had come along, citing her unease at me leaving Chiba in its entirety. She wanted to ensure that at least my living situation was decent. When I went to select a small circular table to place in the dining area, she quickly stopped me and insisted that I should get a dining table that could fit at least eight people.

" _That's stupid." I had said. "Why do I need something that excessive?"_

" _Don't you need a place to put your friends and family when they come to visit?" Was Mom's innocent response._

 _I scoffed at her. "Me? Friends? People coming over? Me? People? Fat chance."_

My mother puffed her cheeks in a similar way Komachi did when she was going to be exceedingly stubborn. I gave up and agreed to buy the table, knowing there was no way I was going to win that argument. And here I was, nearly four years after that purchase, the table filled to the brim with food, drinks, friends, family and…

"I hope you realize that you don't need my permission to start eating." Yukinoshita's voice cut through and interrupted my thoughts.

… yeah. Her.

"You're right. Sorry."

I dug into my meal with gusto, finding it strange that I could have moments like this at all. I couldn't have imagined it in my wildest dreams. Somewhere deep inside me, a little voice was saying that this was all just an illusion and couldn't possibly be happening. Especially to someone like me. It wasn't loud, but an occasionally murmur I heard when I looked for it. But I could ignore it. At least for tonight.

The night wore on and the meal progressed with appetizers leading into entrees. Each was expertly crafted by Yukinoshita. She had assured everyone at the table that Yuigahama had no role in the cooking process, so it was safe to eat.

"YUKINON, YOU'RE SO MEAN!"

Everyone raved about the duck confit, and honestly? They were right. This should be illegal. [9]

We all pretended to ignore Shizuka, who had curled up on the couch after eating her dinner. Yukinoshita had taken the opportunity to remind the poor woman of the recent gaming session. Shizuka was murmuring sadly about her loss with teary eyes while holding a bottle of beer in her hands. Apparently she had brought some over as a gift, but helped herself when the despair was too strong. By all means, go right ahead Sensei. I'd rather you drink it if it means the rest of us could keep our lives.

Finally, the cake was revealed, a double layered tiramisu masterpiece. Yukinoshita said that she knew my preference for cafe flavors, and tried experimenting. Everyone was impressed and quickly started dividing the cake into slices. We had made the mistake of letting Yuigahama hack at it with the knife, leading to uneven portions being served with an awkward and embarrassed smile from the resident airhead. Stay strong, Yuigahama, stay strong.

Part way through my own slice, I realized an inconsistency. "How did you know that my favorite coffee flavor was mocha?"

Yukinoshita's face faintly turnt red and she started fiddling with her hair. "Komachi-chan had made me privy to such information… a few days ago."

"Huh." I felt violated to a certain extent, Komachi was leaking a lot of personal info about me lately.

The party finally comes to an end. Yuigahama had work, so she couldn't stay behind. Isshiki had left during the middle of dessert, her father having come to pick her up. It being a school night for Rumi, the Tsurumis said that they should head back at a reasonable time. Komachi was sleeping over at my place, so it was only her and Yukinoshita staying behind to clean up the apartment. I had tried to help, but the duo had made it clear that I should relax on my birthday.

I went to the balcony and revelled in the cool, late summer breeze as I appreciated the iconic Tokyo skyline. Lights adorned the skyscrapers that soared into the dark night sky. Passenger jets passed overhead, the tips of their wings pulsing with red lights as they readied to land at the airport. Shibuya was landlocked, but from this height I could just catch a glimpse of the bay and it's gentle waves that reflected the city that sat atop it. I heard footsteps besides me, and Yukinoshita came out onto the balcony, leaning on the guardrail as she looked out over the distance.

"It's beautiful." She breathed pushing a strand of loose hair behind her ear and holding it with a hand as the wind flew through it.

"It is." I agreed with a small smile as I focused on Tokyo Tower, a spire of steel rose above all the rest. The iconic landmark was covered in red and white lights that seemingly illuminated the entire city with its presence alone. "It took a while to get used to, all the lights and sounds… and all the people. But I began to appreciate how alive the city felt. I especially liked the coziness of Shibuya. It's a little pocket of quiet suburban peace in the busy metropolis."

"Is that so?" Yukinoshita responded. "I enjoy it at as well. It reminds me of the neighborhood around my townhouse in England. The weather was quite gloomy, and the way they bound books was strange, but all the houses and streets are close together and within walking distance. It was also diverse in ethnicities, and so the food was also…"

Her words trailed off, and I looked over to find her staring at me with accusatory glare. "Speaking of food, I vividly remember you declaring that tomatoes were poisonous in high school, and you swore them off like the plague. But you ate the cherry tomatoes in the meal tonight just fine."

"That right?" I said sheepishly as I scratched my cheek. "Everything tasted pretty good when I got back from Sri Lanka, even tomatoes. I can't really bring myself to hate them on sight anymore."

"..." Yukinoshita went silent.

"Maybe I realized the value of food … after it was such a precious thing in a warzone. Modern life is pretty amazing, you know? All this food we can buy so cheaply and quickly. I still can't get used to throwing away food haha… ha." My awkward laughter at the end did little to disperse the tension.

"In S-Sri Lanka…" Yukinoshita hesitated before continuing, levelling cautious blue eyes at my own. They seemed to glow in the night. "How did the food taste?"

My eyes widened at the unexpected question and I wracked my mind trying to find an answer. "Well… it was interesting to say the least."

Sri Lanka was right next to India, and historically benefitted from the spice trade. The Tamil Kings were a strong group of merchants on the southern tip of the Indian peninsula. This diffused spices throughout the SEA region, with Sri Lanka's cooking essentially having its entire basis on it.

Curry to them was almost all encompassing: anything with meat and vegetables in a spiced gravy. And their curry was very different from Japanese curry. The aroma was potent, and made mouths water with that alone. Which was kind of amazing if you thought about it. It had bold and intense flavors, way stronger than Japanese curry. But it still had complexity even as you kept eating. It didn't numb your tongue with all those ingredients or seasoning. Harmonious bombastic flavor.

Rice was their staple grain as well, except their breed of rice was longer and more stiff. They also had this circular flatbread called _'roti.'_ It was basically eaten with everything. Versatile and easy to carry, _roti_ was given to the working men in the fields for their midday meal.

There was this village I was stationed at, called Pandura where they were known for their picked vegetables or _'malay achcharu.'_

"This guy, a pickle master, offered me some of his brine spice blend. Said if I ate it, would cure my cold. I put it in my mouth and nearly died because of all the coughing and tearing eyes." I recount a story to Yukinoshita. "Apparently a variation of this mix had been used by the United States riot police for anti-personal sprays."

Yukinoshita begins laughing and I quickly berate her. "It's not funny! I really thought my life was over!"

She just laughs harder, wrapping her arms around her body in an attempt to mitigate the racking of her body at her laughs. Seeing this made my lips twitch upward and I found myself laughing as well.

As our laughter dies out, Yukinoshita speaks to me as she dries a tear. "They seemed like fun people."

"They were." I agreed. "They were good people. I was humbled by how they lived their simple and rural lives. No conveniences, but no complications. It was… peaceful."

We fall into silence, simply enjoying one another's company as we gazed over Tokyo. Another gentle rush of air flowed over us and for a moment, all was still.

"Onii-chan!" Yelled out Komachi from inside the apartment, destroying the tranquility. "I'm done washing the dishes! Where are the futons and covers!?"

"They're inside the hallway closet near my room!" I hollered back. "Bottom shelf!"

"Ok! And— oh! Yukino-san is sleeping over as well right!?"

Yukinoshita's face turned red and she looked between Komachi and I in a panic.

I sighed before answering over my shoulder. "Yeah sure, it's fine!"

"Thank you for the hospitality." Yukinoshita thanked me with a strange expression.

"What are you saying? This is the first time you imposed on me."

"No." She shookher head. "It's been all this time."

I kept silent, unsure of how to respond. Unsure of what she meant. Or I think I was. I just didn't want to assume.

"And..." She reaches into her cardigan's pocket and pulls out a small black box. "Happy Birthday, Hikigaya-kun."

I took the box and opened it carefully to find a watch inside. It was simple and elegant, a black and silver device with tiny jewels on the watch face. There was only a single clock that was accented with silver hands. The strap was this frosted black metal that felt cold to the touch. My hands brushed over the Bulova logo. [10]

I'm shocked for a moment, but I quickly regained my bearings. I shut the box and returned it to Yukinoshita. "I can't accept this. It must have cost a fortune," I said hurriedly.

"Nonsense!" Yukinoshita pushed back with surprising force. "It's not just from me… it's a gift from all of the Yukinoshita's. Besides we engraved your name into the back already."

"... O-okay."

I reluctantly retrieved the gift and opened it up once more. Yukinoshita urged me with her eyes to try it on. I wrapped it around my left wrist and was surprised at how well it fit. It didn't look that out of place either.

"Why are you wearing it that way?" Yukinoshita looked confused when I tilted the watch so that the face was at the bottom of my wrist, on the side of my palm.

"Oh, uh... old habit from the military." I explained, twisting my wrist this way and that. "Made it easier to tell time when I was holding a rifle."

"I see…"

"Hey… Yukinoshita? Thanks for the gift."

"You're quite welcome." Yukinoshita granted me a rare tender smile with her delicate pink lips that made my heart skip a beat. "Good night, Hikigaya-kun."

"Yeah… goodnight."

As I laid in bed trying to fall asleep, thoughts about Sri Lanka race through my mind. Talking with Yukinoshita sort of made me remember that not all of it was bad. I was reliving the memories… but not the bad kind. Memories of the people I had met. The taste of the food they cooked. The sight of the work they did in the fields and fishing on boats in the rivers. The sound of the music they played and the songs they sang.

The nature of trust is a strange beast, but it had to do with sharing memories.

I think.

Most people didn't understand it, but revealing your past to someone was like removing your armor before them. You had given them the tools to strike your weaknesses directly; the ability to deeply hurt you, should they wish. They knew all your insecurities and fears. They became aware of all the things that had ruined you. From a logical point of view, it was a frightening prospect. Trust was risk, and to risk was to trust.

Then…

Trust was most likely the ability to tell one another stories of their pasts without fearing that it would be used against you. Unconditionality.

Ergo: I would say, that by this definition, I trusted Yukinoshita Yukino.

 **Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**

References

[1] A parody of the "comma- abuse." It's a joke among professional editors regarding newbie writers under their purview who use commas too often and in places where it's unnecessary. It's considered one of the first hurdles needed to be completed by newly minted writers who are attached to a publisher.

[2] Mayushi's characteristic greeting from Steins;Gate

[3] Mario Party

[4] Mario Party

[5] Overcooked

[6] Mario Kart

[7] Ayrton Senna was a Brazilian Formula 1 racing driver, and widely considered to be the greatest driver of all time, even after his death in 1994. Senna had miraculously won the Brazilian Grand Prix of 1991, considered an impossible feat because he managed to keep his lead despite his car's gearbox making him unable to use anything but the 6th gear, and he was caught in terrible rain. When asked what happened, he said "I visualized. I saw God."

[8] Reference to a line said by Formula 1 driver, Alain Prost, after the Monaco Grand Prix of 1988. Where his rival, Ayrton Senna, had been ahead of him by nearly 1 minute at some point in the race. It should be noted that one second was considered a large gap in Formula 1, and so a minute was basically an eternity. Considering that the two were considered the greatest drivers in the world at the time and were driving the same cars, Prost took Senna's behavior as showboating: an attempt to disgrace Prost. Senna would later crash in that race with only a handful of laps to go, a devastating end to an unbelievable race. Prost would cross the finish line in first place.

[9] In an episode of American Iron Chef, the secret ingredient was duck. Bobby Flay had made an amazing duck confit that one of the judges had said "was cheating" because, if made right, nothing can top it. Bobby Flay went on to win that match by a landslide. The largest point difference between the dishes was, of course, the duck confit.

[10] This watch is part of the Classique series and is custom made. It's worth is about $800 USD.

 **Author's Note:**

 **This chapter was delayed because I had worked on creating a 3D CG render of Hachiman's Shibuya Apartment. You can find the on the SpaceBattles "Unmade" landing page. Many thanks to TheMightyZingy and RalphZiggy for giving me lots of feedback on the design and layout of the apartment and teaching me about architecture.**

 **This birthday chapter was a joy to write. The bit about the fox was more or less a cerebral writing moment where my fingers just flew across the keyboard and my mind was on autopilot. The spiel about Nintendo is a running joke among my friends that the company was out to ruin friendships. It was quite fun to imagine the cast of Oregairu approach a game of Mario Kart.**

 **The final scene was where I broke out my cultural advantage. My mother's side of the family is Indian, so I'm quite intimate with that part of the world. She taught me how to grind spices to make garahm masala and tikka spice blends. Curry is a staple at every meal (minus breakfast) in your average Indian household.**

 **Hachiman has had some good times in Sri Lanka, mostly of the people he had met. Reflecting on how easily he was able to tell Yukino, has him wonder about the nature of trust. A lot of this was written from personal experience where a person who I had considered my closest and trusted friend used the things I told him against me one day. It took me some time to reconcile, during which I spent time philosophizing what trust was.**

 **I can still trust others, and so should you.**

 **-SouBU  
** **Editors (Lord of Admirals 412; Xynovitch)**

 _Revision Log:  
_ _03/17/2020: Re-uploaded with overhaul of tenses and changes in word choice and sentence structure as well as major grammar fixes. Edited author's note to be more succinct and relevant._


	18. His Desistance

**Chapter 18: "His Desistance"**

Yukinoshita called me earlier this morning, and informed me that the court session that was to be in two days time was pushed further back by a week. With nothing pressing to do, I decided to go to the firing range beneath the police department, and I was surprisingly joined by Shiba.

He stood at the booth with a focused expression and I watched as he emptied out the magazine of a pistol into the target a fair distance away. In Shiba's hands was an uncommon sight: a Sig Sauer P220. My partner had added the more modern pistol to his arsenal after the terrorist incident, claiming he needed to be better prepared for unexpected situations. While Japan was far safer than most countries, crime was still rising.

My eyes trailed Shiba's stance, which was a textbook Weaver. However, his shots were all over the place: hitting the torso, chest, and shoulders. Only 3 of the 7 rounds actually managed to penetrate the target.

The Weaver stance was a shooting technique for handguns created in America during the 1950's by the retired county deputy, Jack Weaver. It was originally intended as a way for him to win shooting competitions. While his fellow competitors would quickly draw the gun from their holsters and attempt to fire accurately from the hip, Weaver took the precious few extra seconds to bring the gun to eye level and use the sights of the gun to line up an accurate shot before firing.

This technique of swiftly drawing the gun to eye level and then rapidly putting accurate shots down range became known as the Weaver stance. It was made popular in enthusiast circles and eventually proliferated out into the world. It was conceptually easy to understand, and likely heard of by the average person, making it a common technique for beginners to learn.

When Shiba fired the final round of his mag and began to reload was when I walked up and tapped his shoulder. Both of us took off our earmuffs and he turned to look at me.

"Your form needs some work." I told him flatly. "You're too rigid."

"Too rigid?"

"Yeah, I'll show you, go back into the stance."

Shiba nodded and bent his body into the Weaver stance.

I reached out and begin to adjust his arms and body. "The arm at the bottom needs to be bent more, it gives better support to the arm that held the gun. The idea is to have a push-pull grip. You push with the firing arm and pull with the support arm to stabilize the weapon."

I let him feel out the changes and he looked confused as he asked me a question. "What about aiming? These changes are just for recoil mitigation, aren't they?"

"Accuracy comes into play after you get your recoil under control. Don't tense your back, use it as a buffer for the forces your arms feel so you can maintain the accuracy for follow up shots."

Shiba nodded and he let me know that we was going to try a few more mags. We put on our bright yellow earmuffs once more and I watched him go to work. He carefully moved into his adjusted Weaver stance and began firing. I could see immediate improvement, as 6 of 7 bullets hit the target, and three of them made a nice grouping in the torso.

Shiba mouthed his thanks to me, to which I gave a thumbs up. Seeing his success, I decided to try out my own hand. I took out my P30L with match-weight already attached. I entered my own stance, but before I started firing I noticed Shiba giving me a strange look. I took off my earmuffs, and he did the same.

"Something wrong?" I asked.

"No, it's just that your form looks strange."

"Oh, this? It's a modification of the Weaver stance."

"Modification? Why?"

"Well, it utilizes my legs more, my knees and feet in particular to control the recoil rather than my arms. Frees them to better aim with. Learned it from some American when I was deployed."

"Is there anything wrong with the Weaver stance?"

"Not really, it's great for beginners, because it's more intuitive to control recoil with your upper body, but it exposes a part of the body that generally isn't covered by body armor."

"Which area?"

"The spot right below the left armpit. At the angle the Weaver stance shooter takes, it's a straight shot to heart. If not that, shrapnel will get into your system and right into your bloodstream. And unfortunately, most people aren't Tony Stark, so you're as good as dead." [1]

I chuckled at how Shiba's eyes widened in alarm. "Don't stress. The chances of that happening are low, and you should master the Weaver before you try your hand at the fighter stance. It's safer that way."

I gestured to convey that I was going to start my own turn, and Shiba stepped back as we readied up. I smoothly slide back into the fighter stance and aim the iron sights of my pistol at the target. I rapidly dumped 15 Parabellum rounds. The sounds of the gun were barely a whisper to my covered ears. My arms felt comfortably numb at the recoil. The matchweight I had attached to the front helped reduce the upward jump and allowed me to recenter my aim faster, letting me fire accurate shots down range far faster than without. And the results were average, I guess. Great groups that were mostly center mass, but a few errant holes here and there. They were all on target at least.

"Not the type of shot you'd expect from a gumshoe." Shiba whistled as he inspected the target sheet over my shoulder. "Sometimes I can just tell you're not a normal enforcer."

My eyes narrowed at him. "What are you trying to get at?"

"I mean, it's just the way you carry yourself. I can't help but think you have a lot of experience, and you do get results." Shiba admitted unabashedly. "I think that's why a lot of people avoid you. You're intimidating and hard to approach. Kinda like a Bond villain. B-but you're definitely a good guy!"

Was that really the impression others had of me? I was never that conscious of my demeanor anymore, since active combat drilled into me the importance of paying attention to my surroundings rather than myself. But my behavior wasn't all that different, was it? The only real difference from high school was that I lost the habit of slouching my back. The Demon Drill Sergeant beat that out of me real quick during Basic.

Really though, intimidating? I didn't think I gave off such a vibe. I get saved from responding when my phone went off, letting me know I got a text message.

" _Dear Hikigaya-kun, I have received word from the courthouse, the trial will be delayed by an additional week. The prosecution is most likely trying to buy time and create a strategy to beat the testimonial by Colonel Hidetaka."_

"Girlfriend text you?" Shiba's voice emanated near my ear as he peered over my shoulder. I elbowed him in the stomach reflexively, and was satisfied by a loud 'guffaw!' that came out from my victim. I shook my head and lined up for another go at a fresh target.

"Oh hey Senpai, nice watch."

Δ▼Δ

 _TIMES Japan - Article #POL-3701_

 _SHOCKING RACIAL COMMENTS BY VETERAN POLITICIAN (by Yamada Senrui)_

 _[TOKYO] Controversy erupted during a gathering of the National Diet. Shiokawa Taizo (age 79) of the Conservative Party stood to make his case to delay the bill for limited asylum grants proposed by Prime Minister Kinzo Nabe a week prior._

 _What started off as a filibuster speech about the infeasibility of the plan, noting that it would be impossible to have rigorous background checks for refugees as well as ensuring their educational levels for the skilled positions, devolved into a game of passing the buck._

 _Representative Shiokawa pinned the blame for the instability of the region to China, claiming it was a shadow tactic to undermine Japan's projection of power in the region. He pushed forward the idea that China wanted to expand its border, as revenge for the actions of the Japanese during World War II._

 _The conspiracy theory reached further however._

 _He was not shy in leveling allegations that China was acting with hopes for Japan to be forced by the international community to accept the refugees and "have the social structure crumble from the inside." The larger country and manufacturing giant was waiting like a carrion-eater to exert influence on the weakened parts of the island country and "turn Japan into another puppet state to be controlled by the Communist Party."_

 _He then turned fault on the United States of America, asking why they were not accepting the refugees "when they had ample land and a larger economy. The amount of food that it takes to make their people that obese must be a sign that they can easily feed them [refugees]." Shiokawa insisted that America was not providing as much disaster relief as it responsibly should, as if expecting Japan to field the brunt of the issue simply due to proximity._

" _It should be known to the Americans that they do not have 51 states. They have no power over us, nor can they force us to act."_

 _The incendiary comments did not end there, Shiokawa proceeded to refer to Indonesians and Malaysians as "backward island-baboons" who could not even maintain their own state._

 _The Conservative Party promptly distanced themselves from Shiokawa. When asked for a response, they stated that "Representative Shiokawa's opinions and views do not reflect the philosophies of the Conservative Party."_

 _Political commentators are throwing their hands in the air, decrying the state of Japanese politics, which they claim is slowly losing its civil nature. Now resembling more and more the uncouth character of American politics._

 _The words of Shiokawa seems to have backfired, however. The Bill passed with a 52% majority, and will be going into effect within five weeks._

"Hikigaya-saaaaaan!" A pretty girl with obviously bleached blonde hair called out to me, proceeding to come unnecessarily close and her tendrils of (artificial) golden hair fell over my shoulder. "I can't believe it! You're on your phone already?"

I gave a weak smile, a simple dwarf planet composed of ice in the face of a blazing ball of fire. "Sorry. I was just, uh, reading."

My eyes flickered to the other side of the room, where other people sat and engaged in small conversations outside of my sphere of knowledge. My hopes that no one would see this interaction were dashed when I saw some peculiar stares from the other men at the scene.

This was the weekend that I had promised to go to a mixer with Secretary-chan.

I thought now was a good a time as ever to wear some of the casual clothing I had bought with Yukinoshita. I put on my glasses and left the house, more than a little confident in how I looked. If it was adequate by her Royal Frostiness' standards, it was more than good enough for me. When I showed up at the location, Morimi gave me a weird look.

"You looked kinda ghoulish before, but you can clean up pretty well."

Should I feel insulted, or praised?

The other victims of the mixer showed up in due time. Two girls who were friends of Secretary-chan and worked at Signals came as well, as did two other guys who happened to be friends through graduate school. I forgot everyone's names as soon as they were said.

Sorry.

The room we were in was the usual mixer situation: a table at the center flanked by two sofas. We had ordered our drinks and appetizers before awkwardly beginning to talk. Apparently I was a bit of a novelty to the women, who were interested in the guy who had been personally invited by Secretary-chan.

I attempted to keep quiet, hoping they would leave me alone and turn their attention to the other men in the room, but they somehow found ways to drag me back into their discussions anyway. I tried to use my phone as a distraction tool, but it backfired.

"Really? What are you reading?"

I locked my phone and placed it down on the table. "Just some article about some politician saying some crazy stuff."

"Ohhhh!" Exclaimed the other girl on the opposite side of the room, the one with short black hair. She stopped her conversation with one of the other guys and clapped her hands together. "It was that old guy, right? He said some really mean things! Haha!"

"Ha ha… yeah…" I plastered a fake smile on my face like a fresco, hoping my discomfort wasn't visible.

"Politics has been pretty absurd lately, hasn't it?" Added of the guys, trying to needle his way into the conversation.

"Ever since the SEA became a hot-zone. It's always on the news, all the time. Getting exhausted hearing about it constantly, y'know?" His friend came in to back him up.

Bless your souls. I appreciated the effort you were making to take attention away from myself. Your valiant actions will not go unnoticed. Red ribbons for the both of you! [2]

"Yeah! It's kind of scary, right?" The blonde-haired girl at my side said. She was near enough that I could feel her vibrate as she spoke. Close! Too close!

"Hey Hikigaya, who's this 'Ice Queen'?" Asked Secretary-chan suddenly.

My blood froze in my arteries and my heart stopped beating, suddenly making me the perfect example of a human post-petrification. I whirled around to look at Secretary-chan, who had my phone in her hands. Oh crap, I really regretted removing the lock on my phone. The things I did in case of emergencies…

"Why do you have my phone!?"

"Ehh? It was flashing you know? You got a text or two, but you didn't notice. I was gonna give it to you, but I saw."

It was confirmed, I really needed a new phone. This situation was one to always avoid.

"And anyway." Continued Secretary-chan. "Why are all of your contacts girls?"

"You went through my contacts too!?"

Secretary-chan ignored me. "Komachi, Shizuka, Rumi, Yui, Iroha, and 'Ice Queen'." A finger went up for every name she recites. "These are all girls names, and the only contacts you have besides 'Mom' and 'Dad.' You don't even have Shiba's number saved."

Oh yeah, I should probably add him. I never really had a need to call him, and he always seemed to call me when I needed him. Something he called 'the Partner-Psycommu link.' [3]

"I, uh…" How do I explain this?

"Wait, you don't have Haruno-san's number either? What about your lawyer?"

"What are you talking about?"

"What's your deal with them?"

"I don't understand?" I felt absolutely out of my element here. How the tables have turned; the interrogator becomes the interrogated.

"Don't hold out on me! The sexual tension you have with Haruno-san is through the roof!"

My brain crashed and the world lost its color and warmth. What? Sexual tension? Haruno? _What sexual tension!?_ I was always telling her to leave me alone when she comes by on her 'visits' to systematically terrify me. In fact, you could call it harrassment! No, there was clearly an agenda at work. Haruno was an emotional terrorist! I knew there was a reason why Shizuka got along with her.

The gossip of course, attracted the attention of the two other women.

"Hikigaya-san has a thing with someone?"

"Ehhhhh!? So surprising! What's going on?"

Secretary-chan didn't even wait for me to try and explain myself, as she brought the two up to speed. The pace and intensity with which she recounted events made me shiver, and many of the details were just incorrect. When she finished, the girls seemed to look at me in a new light, almost awestruck.

"What about the lawyer? You two seemed close." Secretary-chan asked.

Might as well lie. "Never met her in my life."

"That's not true. Shiba said that he's seen her before in high school. And I knew you two went to the same school."

Foiled by those closest to me. Typical.

"Wow! You went to the same high school as your lawyer? What are the odds?" Said the girl with short-black hair, now completely ignoring the other two men who sat with their heads hung, clouds forming over them.

I decided to play it safe and said that Yukinoshita and I were just in the same club during high school. She had moved to England after she graduated to do her undergrad and finish law school. We just happened to meet again because of circumstances, with me being sued of all things.

"It sounds like some serial drama…" Breathed the blonde with Secretary-can and the black-haired one nodded in agreement.

Don't you dare put that evil on me!

"Haruno-san said that she and Hikigaya-dated way back, but he was just playing with her while he was actually after her younger sister. He just kept her around as a failsafe." Secretary-chan, looked at me with cold eyes. "Apparently he's a natural-born gigolo. Had girls at his beck and call."

"Ok, stop it. That's definitely not true!" I exclaimed in a panic.

"Oh? What about that brown haired girl who came for her phone the other day? She was pretty too, and she called you by a pet-name too."

Shit, I forgot she met Yuigahama.

"Waitttttt!" Cried the black-haired girl as she came closer to us. "I'm so lost!"

"Well you see…" The secretary described Yuigahama and how I had said that we also used to be in the same club. The way she built this tale made it sound like we had a love triangle thing going on. Which was uncomfortably close to the truth despite how exaggerated this version was.

My phone began to buzz in Secretary-chan's hand. When she looked at the caller ID, her face soured as she handed the device over to me.

"It's the 'Ice Queen'."

Speak of the devil, and it shall appear. I'm starting to wonder if this was like that mobile game where I was able to summon demons with my smartphone. [4]

I quickly grabbed the phone and spoke into it. "Hello?"

"Hikigaya-kun?"

"Yo."

"Yes, hello. I require some assistance. Are you able to come to the Center Mall at—"

"I'll leave right now." I took the opportunity to escape my current predicament zealously.

"O-okay." Yukinoshita responded, flustered at my interruption.

"See you in a bit."

I end the call and stood up. I made my way to exit and grabbed my sports coat from the hooks, to the dismay of the girls who had wanted story time to continue. Unfortunately for them, I had a higher power to answer to.

Δ▼Δ

Of course, I should have paid attention to the weather forecast today. When I left the underground station I walked straight into a late summer deluge. I had no umbrella, but the mall was relatively close. I shrugged and decided to run the distance.

Center Mall was located on a street corner. The building was circular, making it stand out amongst the glass boxes of the rest of Tokyo. I spied Yukinoshita standing underneath the overhang of the entrance, peering out into the storm. She noticed my approach and raised a hand in greeting.

"You're absolutely soaked." Noted Yukinoshita with a frown, a little bit of guilt creeping into her voice. "I'm sorry for calling you out here on such short notice."

"Not a problem, you actually saved me."

Yukinoshita raised an eyebrow, but doesn't question it. "If you say so."

"Yeah, I said so. What's up? You needed help with something?"

"Yes. You see, Nee-san had ordered a new television from the electronics store and it was for pickup. She had asked me to get the device, but unfortunately I was unable to find parking in the mall's lot and had to do so some distance away. With the sudden rain I was stuck and I didn't wish to risk the television getting wet if I transported it to the car."

"That right?" I brought a hand to my chin and thought through some solutions. "Alright then, give me the keys. I'll go get the car."

"Are you certain?"

"I'm already wet, no need for both of us to get caught in this downpour."

With that, Yukinoshita handed me the keys to her Mercedes and told me where the vehicle was located. I walked back out into the storm and down the sidewalks until I found the parked luxury car and jumped in. When I press the ignition button, the car rumbled to life satisfyingly. I circle around the block and came to the mall, taking care to back the car slowly towards Yukinoshita so she could load the box into the trunk without having to deal with the rain. She gave an appreciative look when I helped her lift the electronic device into the rear.

The job done, we took our seats in the car.

"Where are we headed?" I ask.

"Azabu Ward." She responded.

"Oh? You have directions?"

I drew a blank from Yukinoshita, before remembering that she used the GPS to get everywhere.

"Nevermind. I'll never risk our lives ever again." I assured her.

Yukinoshita pinched my side painfully. I depressed the throttle and took the car onto the road and navigate the highways according to Yukinoshita's GPS.

Driving the Merc needed a little getting used to, since the car I normally drove was naturally aspirated and Yukinoshita's AMG had forced induction due to the twin turbos. Power came out at the top of the rev range, and the car seemed to have torque for days. It took a bit of self control to stop myself from testing the acceleration and see where the tachometer would stop. Didn't help that the sounds the turbo blow-off valve made were just sensual.

I chuckled once under my breath when the valves whistled particularly loudly, earning a bewildered look from Yukinoshita.

We eventually made it to Azabu Ward. It was the area where the rich and influential of Tokyo resided, with luxury apartments and houses on scenic avenues and streets. Driving around, I'm surrounded by expensive brick and mortar houses with tall glass windows and sophisticated fascias. I'm not surprised that this was where Haruno lived. No doubt her father had built some things in this district. Being the daughter of an extremely large construction company, Haruno must have been spoiled for choice when selecting a residence.

Yukinoshita directed me to stop the car in a parking lot before a two story house. After fiddling with something on her phone, the garage door opened up and I'm asked to bring the car inside.

"Ah! Yukino-chan! Hikigaya-kun!" A loud and bubbly voice greeted us when we left the confines of the car. Haruno stood before us in casual wear and ran down the steps. "Thank you, Yukino-chan! I got stuck with some work. Although I see that you managed to get Hikigaya-kun to help you."

"But of course." Responded Yukinoshita. "It is always up to the shepherd to keep their flock in line."

"You've made allusions to so many animals lately, I'm starting to feel like I'm a chimera or something.

Yukinoshita blinked at me. "I would say you are just as peculiar."

Haruno laughed at her sister's words and I grumbled. Yeah, I walked into that one alright.

"Haruno, are you in the garage? And do I hear Yukino?" A new voice called out from in the house. One that was familiar to me for all the wrong reasons.

From the door Haruno entered through, walked in a new figure, a woman wrapped in a violet and red yukata. She was a tad shorter than Yukinoshita, but was just as slim and beautiful. This woman was the perfected form of the Ice Queen, the final evolution.

If Yukinoshita was a queen, this lady was an empress. Her eyes delivered a look that seemed to pierce through your soul and unearth your weakness through eye contact alone. I vividly remembered the conversations I had with her ages ago. Yukinoshita the elder would speak a quiet maelstrom of unassuming words that blew apart the ego. Then from the scraps she would piece your intentions together, knowing your inner thoughts and desires better than you did yourself.

Even after my time fighting enemies with guns in a foreign jungle country and dealing with dangerous criminals as my day job, I had yet to find someone more frightening than the matriarch of the Yukinoshita family: the mother of Yukinoshita Haruno and Yukinoshita Yukino, Yukinoshita Tomiko.

"Oh? It seems we have a guest?" She asked with a curious tone, with a voice that I could only describe as being diamond-like in clarity and firmness.

"I completely forgot!" Haruno placed her hands together in apology to her mother. "Sorry, Mom! And besides, he's not exactly a stranger. You remember Hikigaya-kun from back then right?"

The mother's eyes widened in recognition of my name, and I gulp. "... it has been quite a while… Hikigaya-san…"

"L-likewise... " I stuttered out, still completely intimidated by Yuki-mom. Should I bow? Wait, I'm not a child anymore, but should I still bow?

"Would you like to step inside to dry off? Perhaps tea as well to warm up?" The Ice Empress asked politely.

I opened my mouth to refuse, but a physical push from Haruno and her mother's expectant face destroyed my resolve.

I'm strong-armed through the home of the Yukinoshitas. And the first thing I notice about this lion's den? They had heated tiles. That's right: HEATED TILES. The comforting warmth of the floor made me want to lie down and go to sleep on the hard surface. It was magical.

There were two marble spiral staircases that led to the second floor. The heated tiles eventually led way to amber hardwood floors. Bamboo plants sat in chic pots that were placed in specific areas, bringing in some semblance of life to the sterile house of white and shine. It was all modern and lavish, but also had a traditional and calming aspect to it. In my opinion, this really suited the family who resided here.

Yukinoshita disappeared as soon as I stepped in, and I'm pushed into a guided tour by Yukinoshita's mom and Haruno.

Their kitchen was like a laboratory. White tiled floors with white walls, the only black being the marble countertops and top of the kitchen-island. The area was accented by stainless steel appliances and fixtures. All absolutely clean, as if they were never used.

The second floor held all of the personal rooms. There were five in total apparently, with specific ones addressed to Haruno and the master bedroom. Everything else were said to be guest rooms. I was also told that this floor held the grand bathroom, which was where I was lead. Yukinoshita was waiting for us with a change of clothing in hand, just some sweatpants and a shirt.

She guided me into the changing room and indicates where the towels are so I could dry off.

"Just leave your wet clothing in the changing room, and put on the new clothes in the bath, I'll have it collected."

I nodded numbly and walked into their… absolutely ridiculous bathroom. Beige walls and matching beige floors, in a Western style. A large bathtub was at the center of the room, easily able to hold three people. It was less a bathtub and more a jacuzzi. I noticed the knobs all had tiny cats engraved into them. I smiled a bit. Yeah, this was definitely Yukinoshita's work.

"Hikigaya-kun?" Called Yukinoshita from beyond the bath door. "I'll be collecting your clothes to be dry cleaned."

"Nah, don't bother!" I hollered back, momentarily awed by the echo of my voice in this luxurious room. "Just throw them into the drier or something."

"..." There was no response.

"Yukinoshita?"

"Hikigaya-kun… where were you before we met at the mall?"

My stomach felt queasy at the question, I almost experienced an emotion that I could only describe as 'shame.'

"I, uh, was at the bar with some coworkers," I said nervously, before catching myself. Wait, why do I feel like a husband who got caught cheating? I had no reason to feel guilty!

"By chance, were any of these 'coworkers,' women?" Inquired Yukinoshita, and I could almost see the frost forming along the door sills. "Or perhaps men wearing women's perfume, judging by the smell of your shirt."

"Wait, are you smelling my—"

"Would they also happen to have blonde— oh, apologies, bleached blonde hair that reached the middle back?"

Ah crap, did she find a strand somehow? One of those girls did get right up in my personal space…

"Ok. I was at a mixer. A coworker invited me out." With no way out, I came clean.

"Did you enjoy it? Mr. Social?" I could feel the sarcasm dripping from her voice.

"Can't really say. I wasn't there for long. You called about an hour in and I left."

"..." Yukinoshita went silent and I heard the rustling of clothes. "Slippers have been prepared for you. Come out whenever you are done changing."

After I finished putting on the dry clothing, I'm led by Yukinoshita to the den, where I heard Yukinoshita's mother and Haruno conversing in light hearted tones. They stopped when they see us enter the room. There were a limited number of seats, and Yukinoshita remained standing as Haruno pulled me to sit next to her.

Not that the younger daughter remained idle. She walked over to the table and carefully poured four cups of tea. Her form was exquisite, as if she had stepped out of those ancient paintings of tea ceremonies. It was surreal and her figure almost subliminal. All we were missing was a long wooden table and a few school chairs to fully experience the nostalgia.

I accepted the cup gratefully. An emotion that was short lived, as Yukinoshita declared she was going to fix some snacks from the kitchen, Haruno excitedly jumped up to help her.

Leaving me in the room with Yukinoshita Tomiko.

I started to get nervous. I was always bad dealing with her. Yukinoshita's mother was like a force of nature, an omen of what Yukinoshita would be capable of in a few years time. Her presence was awe-inspiring, if I were to be honest. I could see why she was the lynchpin that held the Yukinoshita family together. I'm still unsure how my teenage self had managed to talk to her about a controversial topic.

"I apologize that my husband could not be here to join us," said Yukinoshita's mother suddenly, catching me off guard. "He is preoccupied with work currently."

"N-no! It's not a problem." I remembered a crucial fact that Haruno had told me months ago. "Oh yeah, he's planning on running for Prime Minister, right? Congratulations."

Her eyes widened in delighted surprise. "You are aware? How did you know?"

"Oh, uh, Haruno-san told me after work one day." Sounded about right.

"Speaking of that… is it true that you are a detective?"

"Umm… yes… I work for the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department…"

My answer trails off into silence, and we go quiet for a moment. I take this as an opportunity to sip at my beverage. It was a green tea with a deep and full bodied flavor with a hint of bitterness. There was an accent of rice at the tail end, evidence to the high quality of the leaves and how it was masterfully brewed.

The silence was broken by Yukinoshita's mother suddenly talking out of the blue. "Thank you."

"W-what?" Come-on, Hachiman! Get your act together!

"I was never able to thank you for what you did." Yukinoshita's mother folded her hands on her lap. "You've helped my family in ways I can never repay. You saved Haruno's life. Even before that, you helped Yukino and Haruno get along like sisters once more. You brought my daughter and I closer once more. You made our family whole."

She looked at me with wet eyes. "I can see why my husband is so fond of you. You should know that he respects you quite a lot. The things you do without thanks or seeking gratitude. I can see why you became a member of law enforcement."

The Yukinoshita matriarch bowed in her seat, throwing me into a fluster.

"N-no! Please get up!" I pleaded. "I d-didn't do anything. I just… lightly pushed Yukinoshita when the time had come" I didn't want recognition, and I didn't expect it either. That's not why I did all that so long ago.

"Even still… thank you."

"It's fine. Besides, we're almost even anyway, with the court case and all."

Her eyes took a hardened glint. "Yes. Haruno has let me know about the situation. How is the trial progressing?"

Before I could answer we were interrupted by the sound of Yukinoshita and Haruno entering the den with a silver tray topped with cookies and small snacks. Haruno carefully stood next to her mother, leaving the only open seat next to me, which Yukinoshita tooko without hesitation. Does this mean anything? No, no, no you're thinking too far into it.

"Yukino, I was just talking to Hikigaya-san about the trial, how are things moving on that end, dear?" The mother asked the younger daughter.

Yukinoshita dutifully described how the case had progressed. The litigation before trial was strange, with the prosecution pushing for a trial despite being on the obvious back foot in terms of evidence. There was a minor set back during witness testimonies. Haruno gave some addendums to the retelling, and was also the one to detail how Yukinoshita had brought in the Colonel.

"You brought in a Colonel from the army? I was wondering why you required a private audience with your father. That was a very intelligent move, Yukino, well done." Nodded her mother with a smile on her face.

Yukinoshita's back straightened ever so slightly and I could feel a glimmer of pride and satisfaction coming from her. I wondered how many years she must have waited for praise like that. It's weight in gold must be immense.

"I'm glad we could be of help to Hikigaya-san," said Tomiko-san, "Hopefully, things will end quickly. Preparations for my husband's run for the Prime Minister's office are underway, and we need the entire family's help."

"I apologize for monopolizing your daughter's time like this," I said, a bit of guilt slipping into my voice.

"Nonsense." Haruno smiled. "Besides, Dad's chances just got a whole lot better with the recent news. The Conservative party took quite a hit."

"Ah, yes." Yukinoshita nodded slowly. "Representative Shiokawa and his… colorful language during that Diet meeting."

"Colorful is one way of putting it." I commented dryly. "Everyone seems up in a panic over it."

"As they should be." Tomiko-san looked at me with a wry smile. "Japan is in a state of flux. We have many issues on many fronts, and it is an opportune time for a change in political dynasty. Many are vying for the position of Prime Minister. With the blow to the credibility of the Conservatives with one of their members being so far leaning, it only serves to make my husband's party, the Moderates, seem more appealing."

"Is your husband the chosen representative for the Moderates already?" I asked.

"Father has been chosen." Yukinoshita answered. "His candidacy will be announced soon."

"With Haruno as District Attorney of Tokyo and Yukino working her way through the ranks, our presence here has become solidified. My husband's long tenure within the party has given him popularity, and many of his policies are well regarded by peers."

"That's good," I said politely. "I wish him the best."

"Thank you, Hikigaya-san."

We chat for another hour or so, with topics ranging from the court case, to how Haruno was handling the job of being the district attorney for Tokyo. I got up to leave when my clothes arrived via chauffeur. A guy could get used to treatment like this.

"I'll drive you home." Yukinoshita plucked the car keys from the table and walked towards the garage before I could say anything. Haruno giggled at the exchange. Or lack thereof.

"I hope you visit again soon, my husband would love to talk to you, I'm sure," Yukinoshita's mother said as she bids us farewell. It sounded like it was less of a wish and more of a command. I only nodded respectfully (fearfully is probably more accurate).

Δ▼Δ

"Well…" I started from the inside of Yukinoshita's car, this time sitting shotgun. "Things seemed to have improved… from what I could see."

"They have," Yukinoshita said, her voice ticking upwards slightly, as if she was trying to fight a smile.

"Why don't you have a room in the house?" I asked, reflecting back on the things I saw inside their residence.

"I prefer living alone… but there is a feeling of security knowing that I have a welcoming home to return to."

The cabin went silent as we drive down the highway, the only noise came from the sound of raindrops hitting the windshield and the tires rolling against the asphalt. I really had to hand it to Daimler-Benz, it felt like we were isolated from the storm entirely. As if we were separated from the outside world by a mobile bubble made from steel, glass, and leather. We could probably whisper and still be able to converse inside the car.

Which was why I didn't miss it when Yukinoshita softly called my name. "Hikigaya-kun?"

"Mmm?" I turned my head to look at the driver. "What's up?"

"Thank you."

"... you're welcome."

The rest of the drive home was in a serene and comfortable silence. We didn't feel a need to communicate anything further. All that was needed to be said was out there.

And it was nice.

Retroactive Chapter 16.75: "What's Wrong, Secretary-chan?"

She had to be some sort of statue or something, that could be the only explanation. A woman in a sharp looking gray suit and white shirt sat in the lobby waiting area a few meters off to the side. She was the type of woman whose very presence dealt a blow to the self-confidence of other females around. Long straight black hair with a healthy sheen was combined with a sculpted face and eyes to form an objectively beautiful person.

I knew who she was. She was the younger sister of Haruno-san, the DA. More importantly, she was Hikigaya's lawyer. There was more to that story however. According to Haruno-san and Shiba, this woman went to the same high school as Hikigaya and they were even part of the same club. But there was even more here, I was sure of it.

My theory was proved today. Haruno-san's sister seemed like the kind of person to be self-assured and capable, like Haruno-san. So I was curious when I noticed the blank expression on her face as she looked at her phone repeatedly. I got the feeling that she was apprehensive.

"Yo."

A deep voice called out from the lobby, causing my heart to flutter in surprise. I turned my head to see Hikigaya walking in from one of the wings of the buildings, a single hand raised in a lazy greeting. People used to say that he looked creepy and intimidating, but things were different now. His normally unruly hair was cut and styled in a way that suited him. He wore ties more often, and with the addition of glasses he seemed… professional? No, more that he was put together.

Speaking of the glasses, they were the biggest change. Hikigaya's eyes were like that of a dead fish at the market: sunken and lifeless. But when he wore glasses you noticed that he had this intense gaze that made you feel hot and self-conscious. His face always had that manly angular look, and with that stare I always had to fight down the blush that came to my face whenever our eyes met.

Haruno-san's sister's face transformed instantly, lighting up at Hikigaya presence. The apathetic and aloof look was replaced with a small uptick of her lips into a grin and bright eyes.

"Do you call that a greeting, Hikigaya-kun?" She spoke with a lighthearted teasing tone.

"Leave me alone." Hikigaya grumbled. "You didn't have to ambush me here, I was going to be home in time for the party."

"I disagree. I can easily imagine you sitting at your desk working late into the evening without a care about the passage of time. Some sort of lame-excuse is sure to follow. And for your own birthday at that."

Wait, it was Hikigaya's birthday!?

"Oh ye of little faith." Hikigaya sighed, rubbing the back of his head. He finally notices my gaze and his eyes flicked towards me. My heart started racing, and I could feel the heat rising to my face. He nodded at me, a concise and honest greeting that was so like him. I tilted my head back in response before watching as he walked towards his lawyer. They were at a distance that they conversed in low voices, and so I wasn't able to know what they were talking about.

Haruno-san's sister fell into step by his side as they exited. She looked happy, and Hikigaya… looked at ease?

The scene kept replaying itself in my mind like a broken record. Even when I came home, I couldn't comprehend the look on Hikigaya's face. Was I just seeing things? While in the shower I couldn't help but be doubtful. It's possible, but my gut feeling was that something was different. He seemed a bit less on edge.

"Is that even possible?" I whispered, sitting on my couch with pajamas on as I watch a late-night gameshow. But I wasn't paying attention to that at all. I was just trying to calm the maelstrom of thoughts and emotions.

"... he really is different now."

It was still the same Hikigaya, but I saw him in a different light now. I didn't know Hikigaya had so many friends from high school, and they were all girls too at that… very pretty girls. Haruno-san said that they dated for a bit, so he had some sort of social life. That woman with the brown hair and lost cell phone knew him since high school and was gorgeous as well. They even went to the same club! If anyone had told me that Hikigaya had been a part-time gigolo in his youth two months ago I would have laughed myself to death. But now...

"I didn't know him at all…" I sighed.

I always thought Hikigaya was that awkward guy with a rough personality. He was anti-social, but he didn't push people away; he dealt with Shiba and other officers well enough. There was brutally honesty and straightforwardness, with a bit of cynicism that made others uncomfortable mixed in. If we threw in his sloppy appearance into the concoction, I couldn't help but be assured that no one else was after him.

"When did I start liking him anyway?" I groaned, drawing my legs up to my chest.

It was hard to say. I was working as a secretary at the police department for a year before Hikigaya showed up as a junior-detective. I didn't notice him at first, but I started hearing rumors of a new investigator that was solving homicide cases left and right. Working in the lobby, I would always be aware of people as they came and went, it was part of my job after all. Hikigaya was always a rare one to see. Some days I only saw him entering. Other days only leaving. But hardly ever saw him do both within consecutive 24 hours. He was a workaholic apparently, clocking in some absurd shifts to work on cases.

Actually, now that I think about it… if I had to pinpoint the specific moment I started having feelings for him… it was probably that kidnapping case from a few years ago.

Hikigaya had been assigned to a homicide case where the accomplice to a murderer had kidnapped elementary schoolers, a pair of twin brothers. I always thought Hikigaya had OCD, but I was wrong. It was a lot worse than that. He was like a man possessed; running in and out, with a tired Shiba chasing close after.

It felt like he was going to die himself if he didn't solve this case. That was the sort of desperation I saw and felt rolling off of him in waves.

"Why?" I asked once, out of the blue.

"'Why' what?" He responded confused.

"Why go this far?"

"Heh. I ask myself that too." Hikigaya gave a smirk to no one in particular, but it was a lifeless and depressive one. As if he was forcing his lips to make these shapes. He opened his mouth to continue speaking, but he closed it with an audible sound as his eyebrows scrunched in contemplation. "Catching murderers is important, and we need to do it. But those two kids aren't dead yet. They're even more important. I need to find them before I have another homicide case on my hands."

Saving lives. Hikigaya wanted to save lives. The notion that he held such heroic intentions was just incomprehensible. I still couldn't come to terms with it even three days later when I watched as Hikigaya and Shiba came into the police department with those two kids in their custody.

It was a bit creepy, but I observed him as he watched the kids reunite with their parents. That pained expression remained omnipresent, but there was a bit of catharsis as well. A little tension was lost in his cheeks because something had partially alleviated the height that pulled on him.

 _Ah. That's not fair. He should be happy. He deserves to be happy._

The thought surfaced to my mind at the sight.

"See?" he said, looking at me. "Two less murders for the world to deal with."

"... right."

A man who helps people not for glory, but out of necessity. Whether it was guilt, morality, or just simple mania, no one could deny that Hikigaya was something special. Someone like that shouldn't be so… sad.

 _If only a little. If it gives a bit of comfort. I want to make him happy._

And so, here we are now.

My throat was dry as I watched him walk away with his lawyer alongside; only a few centimeters of space between them. The organ in my chest known as the heart throbbed painfully as I came to an epiphany.

 _I was not the one best suited to give him that happiness._

Hindsight was 20/20, and looking back now it was obvious. I hardly knew Hikigaya. I didn't know the first thing about him. I didn't know it was his birthday today. I didn't know he had friends. I didn't know that he was in the military. I didn't know that he had suffered there. How can I make him happy when I didn't know how to? It wouldn't be me. It can't be me.

But still… it hurt.

"Being in love sucksssss..." I groaned pathetically, dropping over onto my side and letting my hair fall over my eyes like a curtain. I laid there on the couch in a fetal position, closing my eyes trying to will myself to sleep.

 _As long as he was happy, I can accept it._

Exhaustion settled in and the sounds of the TV begin to fade away. My eyes snapped open and I sat up suddenly.

Damnit, I forgot he was coming to the mixer.

 **Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**

References:

[1] Tony Stark had an electromagnet implanted in his chest to keep shrapnel from one of his own warheads from traveling into his heart and killing him. Of course, such a method is not available to everyone.

[2] In Japan, medals of honor are awarded to citizens by the government. The ribbons given have different meanings. The red ribbon is to those that risk their lives to save others.

[3] Psycommu link is a reference to Mobile Suit Gundam's Universal Century timeline, where psycommu is a type of control scheme where people use their minds to control weapons and communicate.

[4] Shin Megami Tensei: Liberation DX2. Check out the opening song, it's pretty rad.

 **Author's Note:**

 **I wanted to show that SHiba was also learning and developing, even if he's not the focus of the story and is a fully-fledged detective. The mixer scene was intended for humor and to justify its existence U added a world-building bit to it. The faux news article was hilariously fun.**

 **I thought Secretary-chan deserved some more screen-time, and so she got her bit in the mixer as well as a dedicated little vignette at the end. It's a little glance into the events that happened between canon and the AU of which Unmade is within.**

 **-SouBU**  
 **Editors (Lord of Admirals 412; Xynovitch)**

 _Revision Log:  
_ _03/17/2020: Re-uploaded with overhaul of tenses and changes in word choice and sentence structure as well as major grammar fixes. Edited author's note to be more succinct and relevant._


	19. All That's Left

**Chapter 19: "All That's Left"**

"Order number 655?"

The barista called out into the moderately filled coffeehouse, her eyes scanning over the customers gathered at the pick up station. I raised my receipt to show her the bolded numbers on the slip of paper. The numerals '655' were written out in toner and then affixed to the surface with a laser.

"Here you go. One Americano, no cream, no sugar; and one vanilla-bean frappé?" She recited back the order in her hands.

"Yeah." I answered in what could almost pass for Neanderthal communication. I gingerly took the drinks that she handed over one at a time.

The sweet smile the barista flashed me didn't go unnoticed, and made me feel even more uncomfortable. I quickly glanced downwards at the cups in my hand, the motion causing my glasses to slide down my nose. I placed my espresso down awkwardly and quickly pushed the bridge of the spectacles back into place so it was no longer obstructing my vision.

The barista gave a small giggle, and I took it as my cue to save myself from further humiliation by quickly retreating to the back of the cafe, where my companion for the afternoon was sitting at a corner table. Rumi's head tilted upwards as I approached, her face in its usual listless state.

"I know it's not much of a consolation…" I started to apologize as I placed the frappé before Rumi. "... but here you go."

"Hachiman, it's fine. It's work, I get it." Rumi says curtly, taking the drink in hand and sipping it. I could almost see her relax a tiny bit. A cold beverage like that was quite appropriate for the absolute scorcher today was. Speaking of today...

A pang of guilt flashes as I recall what today should have been. A new sweets shop called " _Mishichi_ ", had opened in Ginza, and it quickly made headlines with the story behind it's inception. [1] The Japanese pastier who established the shop had traveled all over the world, and learned the secrets behind creating traditional sweets from Turkey, India, Pakistan and Bangladesh. When he returned to Japan he modified the recipes to better fit Japanese palettes. The exotic treats quickly developed a cult following.

One type of sweet that caught my and Rumi's eyes was this small white orb called _rosh gholla_. According to the social media post, it hailed from the Indo-Bengal region and was made by curdling milk. After the whey was removed, the remaining solids were kneaded by hand into small spheres before being cooked in hot syrup until light and fluffy.

The look of fascination on Rumi's face led me to ask her if she wanted to go, preferably on a day when I didn't have work and she didn't have school. She agreed enthusiastically and made me promise. Fast forward a week, and the strategy was to meet up at this coffee shop after she ran morning errands in the area; then taking my car to Ginza to sample the delicacy we were eagerly anticipating.

That was supposed to be the plan anyway.

As soon as Rumi had arrived, I had received a call from Min-san, letting me know that Saito had come through and procured 'the proof' as per our agreement. The time and place had been determined, and the ball was in my court. Unfortunately for Rumi, this was something I couldn't put off. I tried explaining to her all that I could to the best of my ability. I could tell she was disappointed, even if she tried to play it off with a poker face.

This made me feel even worse, because I knew how much she was looking forward to it. Rumi was an understanding person and emotionally mature beyond her years. This probably developed as a result of how her father and uncle had jobs where they would leave for long periods of time for responsibilities beyond their ability to put aside. Rumi didn't resent either of them for that, and was even proud of the fact.

But that didn't mean I felt any better about it.

I wracked my head for a good solution, and ultimately decided my pride was secondary to making it up to Rumi. I had whipped out my phone and sent a text message to one of the few people I could potentially rely on. They answered back in the affirmative, and all I had to do was wait after giving them the address.

I took a sip of my Americano, the bitter taste registered on my tongue. I may be going insane, but I swore that coffee used to have more taste way back when. Perhaps I should go for a different type of café next time? I heard straight Cubano tasted like liquid smoke.

"So who are we waiting for?" Rumi's question disrupted my thoughts about coffee, and I looked up at her to see the teen stirring the frappé slowly, folding the white whipped cream into the drink. She certainly had a sweet tooth.

"Someone I know."

"You have friends, Hachiman?" Rumi looked at me as if I told her the secret to the universe. Or why mandrills have rainbow colored butts. It was the same magnitude of revelation that clearly astounded her.

"An acquaintance."

"Your partner from work that Uncle Kenji brings up?"

"Shiba? No. Besides, I'm not leaving you with another man."

"You don't trust him?"

"It's not about trust." I clicked my tongue. "I don't want anyone getting funny ideas about you. That's the last thing I need on my plate."

"... yeah?" Rumi's voice had a bit of an uptick near the end, a sliver of something reminiscent of positivity I would say.

Our conversation was cut short when the sound of a car pulling up just beyond our window caught our attention. Traffic to and from the coffee house was miniscule, so every car's passing tended to stand out in its own way. Not that this pearl-white Mercedes sedan with a chrome AMG badge needed to emphasize its presence even further.

"... is that them?" Rumi asked curiously, leaning forward.

"Should be."

"... not surprising they drive a car like that, knowing you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Shizuka's car is so… _that_. And so is yours."

"You don't seem to complain when Shizuka drives you to school in the Porsche."

Rumi blushed. "W-well…"

She twisted away and her red face became pale as her attention returned to the world outside, where the driver of the white Mercedes was now exiting. The door opened gently, revealing a plush black leather interior that was interrupted by an elegant leg of Yukinoshita Yukino swinging out followed by the other as she stood in the harsh sun of the café parking lot. She wore light clothing, a cream colored blouse with a navy blue skirt that reached just above her knees. Smart choices, considering that the sun had developed a sudden desire to incinerate us all.

"What the hell, Hachiman!?" Rumi whirled around on me, spitting venom.

"W-what!?" I stuttered back, not expecting such an extreme response.

"What is she here for!?" She hissed.

The front door opened and I heard a worker greeting Yukinoshita as she entered the little establishment. I raised my hand slightly and waved, getting her attention. Rumi looked over her shoulder, gaze following Yukinoshita as the older woman walked towards our table. No questions were asked (nor objections voiced) when Yukinoshita placed her white leather handbag on the circular table before sliding out a wooden chair to sit to my right. I wasn't sure if it was my imagination, but the air got colder, emanating from Rumi like she was a block of ice.

"Good afternoon, Tsurumi-san, Hikigaya-kun." She greeted neutrally, not a syllable out of place or out of tone.

"... sure, 'noon." Rumi responded quietly, bringing the straw of frappé to her mouth to sip quietly at.

I raised an eyebrow at this, but think nothing more of it before turning to face Yukinoshita. "Yo."

"... I see you're wearing the proper clothing for an outing." She drawled.

"I mean, it was bought right?" I looked down at my body, which was covered in the casual wear we had purchased together from the mall awhile ago. "Might as well. Been getting used to it."

When I say 'getting used to,' I mean 'getting used to sitting down with a small-of-the-back holster.' The way it dug into my spine made me feel like the Hunchback of Notre Dame, except due to a herniated disc rather than a bad draw of the genepool (not that I didn't get a poor result from that either). It was unpleasant, to say the least.

"It seems the old cat did learn some new tricks," Yukinoshita said with a wry smile.

I frowned. "You're still on about that?"

"But of course. Is it not but another testament to how I was able to reform you into a human being?"

"This is going beyond ' _noblesse oblige_ ' and straight into the territory of 'messianic complex.'" Besides, didn't you just call me an old cat?

"I think many would agree that I am your savior."

I opened my mouth for a retort, but Rumi spoke before me.

"Can you guys stop?" Rumi mumbled loudly. "It's annoying."

"Yeah!" I voiced my agreement, my hope for survival renewed with the reinforcements sent my way. "She's rig—."

"It's stupid anyway. We all know Hachiman is an idiot."

"Oi."

I leveled a glare at Rumi, who glared right back, not giving an inch. The self-proclaimed 'Savior of Hikigaya-kind' used a hand to try and muffle an undignified fit of giggles. Alas, I was besieged from all sides, might as well admit defeat before demands got worse.

I let out a weary sigh, addressing Yukinoshita once more. "Thanks for coming out here on such short notice. Didn't interrupt anything, did I?"

"Not at all, and it was no trouble." Yukinoshita assured. "Although, I have to admit that I am a bit curious. It is quite rare for you to ask a favor of someone else. The text message you had sent me was vague on the matter."

"There are some extenuating circumstances, but the long and short of it is that I promised to take Rumi to a sweets shop in Ginza, but something came up for work. She's been looking forward to this for the past week, and the dessert is only available for a limited time. It'd be a waste if she doesn't go just because of me. I was hoping you could take her."

Yukinoshita blinked a few times and looked at me with eyes full of suspicion. "... you said this was planned a week in advance?"

"Yeah."

"... is that so...?"

Blue eyes narrowed and flicked towards Rumi, who in turn snapped her head away from the both of us. Yukinoshita passed an inspecting gaze over the teenager, who squirmed under the scrutiny. I tilted my head over to get a look at what exactly caught the lawyer's attention. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Today wasn't a school day, so Rumi had forewent her school uniform and opted for something more casual like myself. Blue skinny jeans and a soft red short sleeve shirt that was covered by a thin black button-up sweater.

She looked rather nice in it.

"... my condolences…" Yukinoshita said somberly, almost out of pity if I didn't know any better.

"I don't want to hear that from you…" Rumi groaned in a low voice.

"He's always been like this, if it makes you feel better."

"It doesn't."

"I see." The corner of Yukinoshita's mouth twitched. "Good luck."

"I really don't want to hear that from you."

A conversation on a higher plane and beyond my understanding had just occurred, leaving me baffled. They simply stopped talking as if they had reached some sort of conclusion despite none of what they said indicating that. All I really knew was that I was mentioned… maybe?

"So, uh..." I coughed into my fist to reorient my thoughts. "Can you do it?"

"I feel as if I must do it. Especially after the humiliation this girl must be feeling, O' Incognizant One," sighs Yukinoshita, her words were accentuated by Rumi's face turning a shade of pink.

"What?" I had no clue what Yukinoshita was referring to, or whether she insulted me or not.

"Nevermind. I was foolish to expect anything. I'll take Tsurumi-san to this shop. She has the directions I presume?"

"Have her put it into your GPS. Pretty straightforward path from here."

"I see, then I have nothing else to ask." Yukinoshita stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder before turning to Rumi. "Shall we be on our way?"

"... might as well…" Rumi said with a depressed huff, her chair clattering as she stood.

"Goodbye, Hikigaya-kun"

"See ya, Hachiman."

"Have fun you two."

I watched as they pile into Yukinoshita's car, and nodded when Yukinoshita waved at me before they set off, joining the local road and eventually the thoroughfare beyond.

Alright, time for my 'date.' But first, I need to go home for a wardrobe change. What I was wearing wasn't appropriate for the task at hand.

I needed to be less memorable.

Δ▼Δ

I may complain about how others don't recognize me as a detective (which hurts a bit, considering I spent a lot of time at school and then slaved away for a few more years of my life afterwards), but I'm aware that this has its own benefits. It let me not be a detective when I needed to be Villager B.

Blending into a crowd and going unnoticed are skills I developed in my youth. It wasn't anything as complex or requiring of a specific talent as manga or anime might make it seem, and I would most certainly be noticed on a basketball court no matter what. [2]

There was once a social experiment done to explore human crowd psychology where they had various numbers of people looking up at the sky in a crowded intersection, and observed the outcomes. Amazingly, it only took three people looking upwards to cause almost every person in the intersection to look up as well.

The concept then, of going unnoticed, was simple: do what everyone else does. As long as at least three others are doing the same, the hive mind of the sea of people would accommodate you.

I stood at the street corner in my work attire, leaving my glasses and tie behind while allowing my hair to return to it's naturally messy state. I never made eye contact with anyone, making sure to keep my focus just below eye level. Hands were shoved into the pockets of my open blazer, covering up a simple white shirt that had the top few buttons loose. I looked just like the typical salary-slave unwinding after a work day where I had just missed every performance goal my overly excited manager had set.

Yeah, I'd be miffed too.

The walk signal changes color and I languidly strolled forward. Lax and easy body language was a must. Tensing was far more visible than you would expect, and disproportionately attracted attention. The human mind was hardwired to keep us alive, so any threat that caused your body to stiffen would instinctively make others look at you in case you had found such a danger and were trying to communicate it. It was an evolutionary survival mechanism for a species that lived in groups.

I reached the other sidewalk and a passing woman bumped into my shoulder as she was preoccupied with trying to find something in her bag while walking.

"Sorry, pardon me!" She gave a quick bow and ran off, not even waiting for my response. I watched as she dissolves into the masses of bustling human bodies in downtown Tokyo.

I kept moving, since standing still while everyone else moved was a surefire way to be remembered. In a few minutes I arrived in front of an electronics store, with a black sedan idling on the road just before it. The car was a Toyota Crown, and while not the newest model, it was easily recognizable because of how popular and common of a vehicle it was in Japan. Elegant and functional bodylines with a few chrome finishings at the front grill gave it that distinctive look.

Interesting choice of vehicle.

The person in the driver's seat was Saito, wearing the exact same things he did when we first met in Ming-san's shop. The drug dealer caught my gaze and raised a hand in greeting. I nodded slightly in response and walked to the other side of the car, opening the passenger door and sliding in. I was met with the smell of aged fabric and some radio program being played through blown out speakers.

"Took ya long enough." Saito grumbled.

I exaggeratedly pulled back the sleeve of my left arm and pointedly looked at the watch located at the bottom of my wrist. "You might want to get your clocks checked. According to mine I'm 5 minutes early."

Another thing I learned in the military: if you're not 5 minutes early, you're 10 minutes late. And if you were a single second earlier than those 5 minutes, you would be the butt end of every joke for being 'useless'. It was something about making soldiers discerning, if I recalled correctly.

Saito clicked his tongue. "Got here earlier than I thought. Tried listening to the radio to pass the time, but it's all the same fucking news on every fucking station."

"Something happen?"

"You don't know?" Saito asked surprised. "Big stuff just went down over in Singapore."

"Singapore?" I repeated, before remembering something. "Aren't the Summer Olympics going on there?"

"Yup. Crazy shit happened a few hours ago. Some terrorists from Laos went and killed a ton of Vietnamese athletes."

"What!?" I asked shocked. "How!?"

"Suicide bombers." Saito answered with a shrug. "Killed six athletes and ten bystanders. Dozens more were hurt. Every station says a different number, but they're all around that ballpark."

"... that right?" The information had me floored. "I'm guessing a terrorist cell took responsibility?"

"That's what the news says. Blank Shell they call themselves, separatists from Laos."

"Are the games still going on?"

"No clue, I think they're still trying to figure all this shit out. It's a clusterfuck. A really fucked reminder for the Israelis there, I'm guessing."

"Israel? Oh… yeah, Munich."

The Olympics held in Munich in 1972 was an infamous event that went down in history as the 'Munich massacre.' The Palestinian terror group, Black September, took eleven Israeli athletes and one police officer hostage. They demanded the release of 234 Palestinian prisoners jailed in Israel and West Germany.

By the end of the incident, and after a failed rescue attempt, all twelve hostages were dead and only three terrorists taken into custody. Not that it mattered, since Black September demanded they be released for a hostage exchange after they had hijacked Lufthansa flight 615.

The entire ordeal was considered one of the greatest failings of the international community.

Saito nodded somberly. "Just goes to show that the world is one big shithole floating in space."

"Can't say you're that off…"

"Right?" Saito cracked an empty grin, and I grimaced.

The drug dealer looked into his rearview mirror before passing his eyes at me. I nodded and put on my seatbelt. He released the parking break and pushed the automatic drive selector into forward and twisted the wheel. Saito gave one last lingering gaze to his surroundings before the car set off.

"We're gonna drive around for a bit. Lose any tails I might have." He explained as he followed a winding busy road in the middle of the district. Saito took care to mix between lanes, placing the car into groups of similarly colored and shaped vehicles so as for it to get lost. I could respect the caution.

After an hour of mind bending turns and seeing the same intersection more than 5 times, we finally entered a multi story parking lot, where Saito parked at the first spot on the second floor. He took a deep breath and pulled on the neck of his brown jumper before turning to me.

"Right, then. Let's get down to business."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the black leather wallet I had seen him with at Min-san's. He removed a white card and handed it over to me. I took it gingerly and marveled at the texture. There were thousands or millions of grooves in the surface that reflected the light strangely, but still felt smooth to the touch. My brain was having a processing crisis trying to bridge the sensory inconsistency between vision and touch.

"This it?" I asked.

"Yuuuup." Saito responded with a nod. "As I promised, I got ya a card associated with the name 'Sayama Sayato.' Credentials should be updated in about 24 hours from 6 hours ago, so… in 18 hours you'll be good to go."

"How'd you manage this?"

"Trade secrets, my man." Saito gave me a wink that was wholly inappropriate for a man his age. "Though I will say someone owed me a loan, and he has an ear to someone big."

"So he's dead then?" I asked in a deadpan.

"... you're kinda dark, ya know that?"

"Sorry."

Saito frowned at me, clearly understanding the insincerity in my words.

"Anywho… the associated account has about 100,000 yen on it. Don't ask where I got it, I don't know either."

"How do I use it?"

"Do I look fucking stupid?" Saito laughed. "I'll give you details about all that shit when you do your end of the deal. I used to play poker, I know how this game works."

I nodded slowly. "Seems fair enough. I'll contact my person as soon as I can."

"Yeah? Min trusts you, I guess I have to as well. And hey, prison is objectively better than a morgue."

I didn't laugh at his joke. Instead I gave him a blank stare, which made him wince. I unhooked the seat belt and the man next to me unlocked the doors. My fingers that were about to pull on the door release stop mid motion.

"So…" I trailed off, getting Saito's attention. "When'd you steal the car?"

His eyes bulged, and for a moment I'm afraid they would pop out of his skull. "What the fuck!?"

"So it is stolen." I pressed for a confirmation.

"How'd you know!? It's been, like, 5 fucking years! I stripped the VIN and everything. I even made sure to paint the inside of the body panels too!"

"Calm down." I had grin on, amused at his over-the-top response. "This brand is well known. The Toyota Crown is one of the most commonly stolen cars in Japan. I just guessed. Thanks for admitting to it just now, by the way."

The smugness that colored my voice was intentional, by the way.

"You son of a bitch…" Saito heaved a breath, and massages his temple. "I see why they made you a detective. Sneaky little fuck."

Now it was just pure curiosity driving me. "So you pedal drugs and steal cars? You running some double indemnity service?" [3]

"Okay, okay, okay!" Saito said wildly. "To clear shit up, I used to steal cars."

The way he stressed that word and his reaction made it clear to me that he was serious about making sure I understood and believed the distinction.

"Why stop?"

Saito shrugged. "Nicked cars don't make as much money as drugs."

"True." I hummed thoughtfully, trying to frame my mindset to that of a criminal. "But it's far less risky. You can hide stolen cars in plain sight, not so with drugs."

"I sort of like the risk. Adds some flavor to it."

Well, that was an answer I didn't expect. I gave the drug dealer a sidelong glance. "Is that why you stole cars? You liked the rush?"

"Nah, not at first." Saito looked forward, out of the windshield into the parking lot and the tiny community garden in front of us. "Dad died when I was a little brat, so I had to help my mom. But she got sick, and we needed money. I worked a few part time jobs. I started stealing cars when it was getting hard to make ends meet."

"I see." The usual back story to any criminal, I wasn't shocked. My curt answer seemed to spur Saito on.

"Did that for a bit. I think Ma noticed, or at least guessed. Old hag was way too smart, ya know?" Saito gave a small chuckle, eyes misting over. "But she didn't say anything. Just thanked me and shit. When she died, I didn't really know what to do or how to feel."

"Besides the thrill of stealing cars." I conjectured, the painting that was his personality was being filled by color within my mind's eye.

"Yeah!" Saito said surprised. "Holy shit, you get it?"

"Kinda. Saw people go through something similar once."

Some of my squad back in Sri Lanka were like that. All hope seemed lost, and they had nothing to live for. But a few started feeling that little thrill of combat in the back of their minds as epinephrine rushed in and melted their starved emotions. They lived purely to experience the next battle, eagerly going along with plans I had set forward, no matter how dangerous. They began to find their own enjoyment in the killing, relishing in the savagery like it was a hobby.

And it might have been, who knew. It kept them sane enough to survive for a whole year.

"That right? Nothing really mattered to me anymore. I didn't even have a need to spend money. Not like I have a giant house or nice cars. I just wanted something to do, I guess."

"So you started looking for the next adrenaline rush. That next high of euphoria."

"The itch got bigger the more shit escalated. Started off stealing sedans in the neighborhoods. Then I got picked up by a group of car thieves. And let me tell you, these guys were absolute fucking pros. We rolled up on dealers and took cars straight off the lots, it was nuts. Fucking ballerina shit. Swan Theft Auto. Luxury, sports cars, SUV's; you name it, we stole it. The 911's made tons of cash. When I got tired of that, I eventually started pushing drugs. There was so much fucking money, so much fucking thinking involved. It was fun."

A dark grin twisted my lips. "Your definition of fun is kinda…"

"Yeah, it's fucked." Saito agreed without hesitation. "But hey, it's fun to me at least. I liked it. And that's all that matters. The game of cat and mouse I played with the police. Making that big sale. All part of the experience."

"You don't think about the people you harm?"

Saito looked at me with the same expression a toddler gave when showed the quarter-behind-the-ear-trick for the first time. "No. Why should I? Not like they'll think about me."

"Well… can't say you're wrong..."

"Of course you can't." Saito snorted and leaned back in his seat. "I mean, just like you can't say its wrong to want to live. I know I fucked over a ton of people, and I'm in their shoes now, but I still want to at least get by. Yeah, I'm being a complete limp bitch, but it's who I am."

"Huh." I remarked thoughtfully, his words sounding familiar. "I thought the same way. Actually, almost word for word of what you said."

"Yeah? Hated yourself too?"

"Absolutely. But I made way less money than you."

"What the hell? You lost both ways then! What's the point?" Saito guffawed in between bouts of obnoxious laughter. It was contagious, and before long I found myself laughing along with him. We eventually calmed down, and came to a quiet moment where Saito spoke once more.

"Hey… Hikigaya? Thanks for the talk. Needed that. A quick therapy session."

The absurdity of the statement made my face slacken.

"I am the _WORST_ possible person to be a therapist." I say in a deadpan, the thought so ludicrous I couldn't even find the humor in the irony. That's just me though, Saito seemed to find it hilarious anyway and merrily cackled away.

Suddenly my phone started buzzing loudly, which was surprising since it had been on the fritz lately in terms of receiving calls. A series of numbers was on the screen, and I immediately recognized it as Shiba's.

Something was wrong.

I accepted the call and quickly raised the device to my ear. "Talk to me."

"Senpai, we have a situation." Shiba's breathless voice came over. I could hear sirens and shouting in the background. "The laundromat in Shinjuku? It just caught on fire during a shift in the stakeout."

"Shit." I bit my tongue. "I'll be there as fast as I can."

"Okay."

The call ended and I turned to face Saito. Before I could speak, he shoos me away with a hand.

"You got something to go to right? Police stuff."

"Yeah," I said, a bit of me hesitant. "Are you sure? You don't want me to stay with you until you get somewhere secure?"

"My guy, I've been on the run all my life. Running from my dad and his shitty belt; running from the cops; running from poverty; running from boredom; running from the Families. I'm a master at it now! I can handle myself for another day or two." He gave me a cocky grin that proudly displayed the laugh lines along his cheeks. "After that, though, I'm fucked. So you better come back to protect me, eh?"

"Of course." I scoffed, putting as much sarcasm into my voice as possible. "Anything for the damsel in distress."

He laughed.

"Yeah, that's right. I'm a fucking princess, so you gotta save me 'kay?"

Δ▼Δ

I was once more thankful for the Japanese public transportation system. It was reliable, like the old IT guy at HQ with the dirty sense of humor and a God-given talent to fix any printer with a few smacks and choice swear words. With trains running every five minutes in either direction at rush hour, I was in Shinjuku within 30 minutes. I quickly exited the station and ran in the direction of the suspicious laundromat that I was sure was involved with the Yakuza.

A tower of black smoke marked the spot, and the street was covered in a crowd of people who all stood before it like a wall.

I forced my way through with shouts and pushes, not caring for those that yelled back at me in anger. When I made it through I was met with yellow police caution tape, two officers quickly approached me when I attempted to slide beneath it. I reached into my pocket and procured my badge. They nodded and let me through.

Red and blue lights flashed from the tops of the two patrol cars and a single ambulance. The two colors alternated, bathing my vision in either-or, but never both. A fire truck sat off to the side, the firefighters stood back while clad in their heavy gear, watching the fire play out. The laundromat seemed relatively well off, aside from the billowing smog. Shiba stood before his Skyline sedan. As I walked close, my partner noticed my presence with a concerned face.

"Senpai!"

"Bring me up to speed."

Shiba nodded. "There was a minor fire in the backroom of the laundromat. Exact time is unknown, but it was during a rotation of lookouts."

"A twenty minute gap then." Shit, the stakeout was an age old tool for investigators, but it had one crucial flaw: the human element. Organizing hours on hours of observation wears down on people, and breaks are necessary. Rotations were particularly vulnerable if the next lookout was late due to negligence or circumstance, and the previous one had to be somewhere or had fallen asleep due to exhaustion.

"Yes, about three hours ago." Shiba supplemented with frustration. "Lookouts saw smoke and immediately phoned the fire department and HQ. Firefighters have got it under control. We're just waiting for the green lights to head inside."

"Damn it." I cursed, putting a hand over my mouth. There were butterflies in my stomach, the bad kind where the feathery wings were brushing the inside of my diaphragm. Rather than butterflies, it would be more accurate to say I had moths fluttering around in there.

It was nearly two hours before the firefighters declared the laundromat safe enough to enter. By then evening had rolled in, the sky darkening into a deep purple.

Kazuya Ryunosuke was nowhere to be seen, but I was told that he was aware of the situation, however was out of town on family matters. He would be returning to Tokyo with the soonest train he could grab. At the very least, he wasn't in the store when this happened. Yakuza or not, no one deserved to die by being burned alive. I could still see those sparks beneath my eyelids.

The front of the store was spotless, minus the black trail of dirty water and soot from the boots of the firefighters. No doubt because it was only the store room that had caught on fire. Concrete didn't burn, so once the doors were closed, the fire could be contained easily as it burned itself out. The acrid smell of burnt plastic filled my nostrils as we neared the back of the store.

The piles of bottles and bags of the laundry supplies that I had seen last were incinerated. We could barely tell anything from the remains. The heat produced was such that if there were any drugs, we wouldn't be able to identify them from all the carbon, silicon, and other crystals formed as a result of the blaze.

"You think they noticed?" I asked to Shiba. "The stakeout, I mean."

"It's a possibility." Admitted Shiba slowly. He knelt down to lift up a metal sheet, finding the one bare spot of clean concrete beneath it. "However, Hiura-san and his team aren't amateurs, so it's unlikely. But it's still a possibility."

It was convenient, a fire that begins during a short break in the stakeout. But all conspiracy theories began as such: finding patterns where there were none. It was one of the marks of insanity. I took a deep breath and pulled the reins on my racing thoughts. There were inconsistencies, I acknowledged.

The stakeout had gone on for nearly 5 weeks. Plenty of time to be detected, yes, but the day was important. Today was Sunday, not a day that blue bottles were sold. There shouldn't be any evidence to hide today, a fire would simply attract more attention to the location. It was illogical.

Did that mean that my hypothesis was wrong? Were blue bottles not used as drug transportation vessels?

"Do we know the cause of the fire?"

My partner shook his head. "Fire marshals are going to start their investigation tomorrow. It could take one to ten days."

I ran a hand through my hair, which was slick with sweat from the residual heat of the run combined with the anxiety of not knowing where this case was headed. One of the major leads was shot down, potentially permanently, and I had gleaned absolutely nothing from it, barring conclusions made from mental gymnastics.

It would be a long night.

Δ▼Δ

Little did I know, my night had barely begun.

Around midnight, Shiba and I returned to HQ to record the events that had just occurred and our findings. The office was open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, but it was usually dead around this time of night.

Which was why I found it strange when I noticed all the activity in the parking lot. Officers were running in an out, and cars were haphazardly parked, as if they were just pulled in and stopped at the soonest opportunity. Shiba and I shared a look as he parked the Skyline, both of us wondering what was going on.

My question would be answered soon, after we had sat down at our respective desks at the office. I was halfway done with my report when I heard the flurry of footsteps outside in the hall. The echoing pitter-patter of shoes hitting the tiled floors drowned out whatever sounds my keyboard was making.

A detective I had seen in passing appeared in the doorway, out of breath. "Is Hikigaya here?"

I didn't like the way he said that.

"... that would be me." I responded slowly.

"You have a brother or something? Went missing recently?"

My brain stopped.

"What?" I asked perplexed. "No, I only have a younger sister."

The other detective blinks. "Really? We just pulled in a body down in the morgue that has you listed as the next of kin."

I didn't think, I just stood and Shiba followed after me as we follow our fellow detective to Forensics, where the morgue was located. I didn't even have time to reflect on how it had been awhile since I stepped foot down here. The Chief and Shiba made sure to keep me away. I appreciated the sentiment, but I hated being babied.

"It should be here." Indicated the detective, pointing towards a glass room with a single tarp covered body. "We just got to taking off the clothes. Pretty horrific shit."

I opened my mouth to tell Shiba to go and see, as the smell down here was making me lighthearted already, and I didn't want to make things worse. But the words never left my mouth as I noticed something in the bin in the corner of the room. I saw a brown sleeve hanging over the lip of the vessel.

A sleeve that belonged to a very familiar brown jumper.

My feet began moving on my own. Time seemed to slow down the closer I got. I couldn't tell any color other than that bright white of the covered dead body. It was almost blinding. I ignored Shiba's shouts of worries, tuning him out as I lifted the blanket. How strange, my stomach was calm. My eyes didn't threaten to roll into the back of my head. My throat wasn't swollen, and I could breathe easily. The nausea I had felt before disappeared like a late summer night's breeze.

"Senpai!"

"I'm fine." The strangest calm colored my voice. I wondered if I was trying to convince myself. But nothing else mattered. Listening to the other detective didn't matter. The lights and sounds didn't matter. Shiba's worry didn't matter. The way my heart seemed to race inside my ice cold frame didn't matter.

None of that mattered when I saw Saito's body on the table before me, dead as can be. A single, horrible, disgusting, and cynical joke gibbed in my mind.

He wouldn't have to run away anymore.

I had to stop the snort at the hilarity. Natural comedian, I was.

"You know him?" Asked the detective, walking up to me.

I covered the face with the blanket in a single, unperturbed motion. Eerily and disgustingly smooth in that deliberate action.

"Never saw him before in my life." I responded, words as fluid as a river bank.

Shiba didn't say anything.

"Yeah? Well, shit." Groaned the other detective, scratching his head furiously.

I turned around and walked away, going back up the stairs into the upper floors of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. Shiba's footsteps trailed behind me, never once stopping until we reached the office. The hallways were suddenly much colder, quieter, and lifeless; exactly what I had expected it to be when we first walked in. The chaos of the police headquarters almost a hallucination.

I didn't know how I got home, or even when I did. There was no desire to answer the texts Rumi had sent about her outing with Yukinoshita. Not that I could, my phone had died sometime ago and I couldn't be bothered to charge it. There was a pile of clothing on the tiled floor of the bathroom, the steam within the space soaking them thoroughly.

I was sitting in the bath with the water turned up to dangerously hot temperatures. My skin was red at the contact with the scalding water, but I felt nothing. I was warm, but still numb. As if my nerves had just outright lost functionality. Water splashed when I drew my legs to my chest and wrapped my arms around my knees. The pale white lines of scars and blotches of darker skin that covered my upper arms and shoulders came into my peripheral view. There were similar marks on my chest and back, and they only seemed to become more pronounced with time.

They were permanent testaments that I may have left that Jungle, but that Jungle didn't leave me. It would never leave me, so I just had to get used to it and all the things that I did. Accept that this was just how things were and would be for as long as I live and breathe.

Huh.

Did this mean that I was finally used to seeing dead bodies?

"About time." I whispered bitterly, closing my eyes and resting my chin on my knee caps. A single drop off water slid off my hair and trailed down my forehead and face like a snake.

It was ice cold.

 **Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**

References:

[1] The name of the shop is "Mishichi" and is written with the hiragana "みしち." This is intended to sound like the Bengali word "mish-tee" which means "sweet" or "sugary" and is also used as a noun to refer to the sweets made by curdling milk. The characters みしち literally translate to "mischief." The pastier intended for this double meaning :^)

[2] "Kuroko no Basket" reference. One of the protagonists, Kuroko Tetsuya, had the ability to 'disappear' on the basketball court by taking advantage of people's eyes and where they kept their attention. This leads to some absolutely hilarious and absurd plays.

[3] Reference to the movie Double Indemnity from 1944, by Billy Wilder.

 **Author's Note:**

 **Did you really think I was going to let this all sunshine and rainbows with Yukino and company? SIKE. This chapter is me throwing cold water on the characters, reminding them of the bitter reality that is life. The world that inhabits this AU isn't well off, and the microcosm of joy Hachiman may have in his personal life doesn't exist out in the world proper.**

 **Terrorist attacks, drug trafficking, innocents dying, children suffering. It's all out there, and our 'hero' is aware of this. The death of Saito is a brutal reminder that you can't turn your eyes away from reality.**

 **In other news, the reader response to the Secretary-chan scene last chapter was great! I'm happy that it touched some of you on an emotional level. It gives me some reassurance that my OC's aren't hated. Maybe I'm doing something right for once?**

 **-SouBU  
** **(Editors: Lord of Admirals; Xynovitch)**

 _Revision Log:  
_ _03/17/2020: Re-uploaded with overhaul of tenses and changes in word choice and sentence structure as well as major grammar fixes. Edited author's note to be more succinct and relevant._


	20. Guilty Mind or Steel Trap?

**Chapter 20: "Guilty Mind or Steel Trap?"**

The basement of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department building had two floors. B1 was the higher level, and it contained the firing range, gym, and the shower area. It was frequented by various officers who want to practice their marksmanship; do some weight training or running at the gym; play some sports; or just freshen up after a long shift. You would always see a lot of people here at all times of the day.

B2 was the absolute bottom of the building and was a ghost town when compared to the floor above, No one went down there. And if anyone did, that generally wasn't a good sign. It was jokingly referred to as the 'the Chiller' because of the cold temperatures that were intentionally maintained for vital purposes. Why?

The morgue was down there.

Exactly 5 days had passed since Saito's body had been discovered, and I was told that a preliminary post-mortem examination was performed. Shiba and I arrived down there at around 3PM today, and as usual there was not a single live human being in sight as soon as we got off the elevator.

B2 was dimly lit by a few hanging lights that illuminated circular spots on the floor. They continued down the hallway, separated by one another from a fair distance. Our footsteps echoed eerily, bouncing off the walls and inducing a disorientating effect within our ears.

The drab gray concrete pillars contrasted heavily with the crystalline architecture that made up the rest of the space around us. Glass sheets instead of solid walls made it so you could see into every room. Almost every room, actually. Obvious to anyone with eyes, the body storage area was behind a 7 centimeter-thick steel door. I had made this trip enough times in my early career as a detective that I had developed the muscle memory to move on autopilot to my destination: the forensics lab located at the back right.

Like every other room, the lab was a glass box on three sides with the concrete foundation of the basement acting as the final wall. The only light that could be seen was from a medical observatory light that was suspended over a silver table with a white tarp covering… something. The lab was spotless, not a single speck of dirt or dust anywhere, even on the glass. There was a single man in a white lab coat hunched over the black granite counter with a hexagonal aluminum pen in hand. [1]

I walked up to the door and knocked twice with my knuckles. The sound attracted the man's attention, whose neck snapped upwards and his eyes narrowed to look me in the face. For a second his cheeks slackened in shock before transforming into one of barely concealed annoyance. He stomped toward us, violently jerking the door open inwards.

"What the hell?" He growled, sizing me up and down. "I thought you were allergic to dead bodies?"

"Call it 'exposure therapy.' Maybe trying to get 'acquired taste.'" A facetious grin came to my face. "You could even call this 'conditioning,' if you're into that."

It had the intended effect, as the skin on the man's forehead scrunched in exasperated confusion.

"Exposu— the Chief let you down here? No way. Impossible. You vomited at the first whiff of formaldehyde."

Meet Doctor Nagai Shuuji, the resident expert forensic scientist at Tokyo Metro PD. Nagai was a man with no filter, and so I found him easy to talk to. He had no qualms letting everyone know that he loved being alone and hated anyone or anything that bothered him.

One of the rumors floating around was that as a child, he told his mother that he didn't want to deal with people at his job when he grew up. His mother had informed him that if he wanted to avoid human interaction in its entirety, he only really had two choices: work with computers or with dead bodies. Allegedly, the ten year old Nagai Shuji had responded: "I don't have to restart cadavers."

Legend also had it that he was somehow married.

"Well, I'm here now," I said, shoving my hands into my pockets, knowing full well it was getting under his skin. "I stuffed my nose with tissue paper and I got a Noble Super Sour Lemon drop in my mouth. Let's get to it." [2]

"You're suicidal."

"What are you talking about? You would love to see my dead body carted down here."

"That's what I hope and pray for every night before bed." He snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Strange religion you follow. Any holy texts?"

"Yeah, 'Self-Euthanasia for Dummies.' It's enlightening."

"I'll take your word for it."

My dry response didn't go over well. "Hmph…" Nagai puffed impatiently before stepping out of the way and letting us in.

"Shiba, I thought you knew better." I heard Nagai chide my partner after I walked past.

"I thought I did too." Shiba admitted tiredly, causing me to chuckle under my breath.

The medical observatory light was a square light fixture on an arm, with an array of LEDS that produced a brilliant bright white light that shone over the white tarped body on the examination table. My nose was clogged, and all I could taste was an extremely sharp lemon flavor aided by citric acid to distract my tastebuds through sheer brute force.

I felt numb, and it wasn't because of the cold air.

"So.…" Drawled Nagai as he donned purple examination gloves with excruciating slowness. "Chief wants me to give you what I got? I'm guessing it's about the latest guest that checked in at my hotel here."

Was he trying to be funny? That's a horrible metaphor.

"That's correct, Nagai-sensei," said Shiba, a person dictated by the heavens to play the straight man in any and all circumstances.

Nagai scratched his head and sighed deeply. "Alright, let's get it over with..."

He grabbed his clipboard and began narrating.

"Starting off..." His eyes squinted behind his reading glasses as his gaze focused on a line. "... getting identification was a real pain. Records had nothing on him; no missing persons filings or restraining orders. On the off chance he was out of town, we took the extra effort to contact the police departments all over the country. Got nothing that matched our friend here. Similarly, comparing his thumbprint and DNA with the national database got us nowhere, just a bunch of false positives."

"'Tedium' is the name of the game here in the the police force." I shrugged. "But I'm assuming you have something?"

Nagai cleared his throat. "We did manage to tag him, but the process was a bit… backwards."

"How so?" Asked Shiba.

"Our friend here has a very 'distinguishing' dental situation. There are crowns on his two of his second molars; tooth 27 and its mating tooth 37, according to the FDI notation. The breakthrough was identifying the material that they were made of: nickel chromium. It was discontinued for dental use in Japan about two decades ago. We only use polymethyl methacrylate now, since the resin self-cures and the material is durable."

Shiba chimed in. "If I remember correctly, the second molar grows in between the ages of 12 and 13. So that means that he was 30 years old at the least."

"That's exactly it." Nagai nodded in confirmation. "Furthermore, both crowns have identical crystalline composition, which would imply they were from the same source. The most plausible theory I came up with was that he had the crowns applied at the same time during the same operation. So I double checked dental insurance claims from that time period it was legal for patients who were older than 11 then, and 35 or less now.

"Not a lot of people had nickel chromium alloy crowns; even fewer had both applied on those two teeth; and even fewer than that had them on the same day. We narrowed it down further by checking blood type. The final batch of matches were checked manually. Took four days, but we eventually got an ID. The name on his birth certificate was Saitama Toshi."

Saitama Toshi.

 _ **SAI**_ _tama_ _**TO**_ _shi._

 _ **SAITO.**_

As expected, it wasn't his real name, but it was close. The best lie was the truth, after all. Saito was probably a nickname he had in childhood. It was a common habit among humans. Studies showed that when making usernames for games or email services, 64% of people tended to default to a childhood moniker. This was even more common among criminals who had aliases.

"Obviously, he's male. 32 years of age. 160cm in height, and weighs in at 61 kilos." Nagai glanced at me. "BMI is a tad high, and he was starting to get a bit porky around the torso. From the makeup of the adipose tissue I would say he started putting on mass recently. What do you think, Detective?"

"Someone wanted him dead… probably." I shrugged apathetically, pretending to not know the truth of Saitama Toshi's circumstances. "My guess is stress eating. If he was always on the run he would be eating large meals infrequently. The body compensates."

"Great minds think alike." Responded the forensic scientist with the vigor of a zombie. "His lungs are pretty clean too. I would say he stopped smoking… what? Maybe 3 to 4 years ago? His throat had some tar residue, however."

"On and off smoking then. Most likely stress related as well?" I asked with a raised eyebrow, swallowing the juice from my lemon drop.

"Correct again, Hikigaya." He frowned with barely concealed frustration. "It's starting to annoy me."

"Sorry."

Either my natural trickery stat wass obscenely high, or Nagai's insight roll was shit, because this deception check was a cakewalk. [3]

"Any who… cause of death is obvious." Nagai puts down his clipboard and moves towards the body. He carefully folds back the cover, just revealing Saito's head. The deceased drug dealer's skin was unnaturally pale, and his eyes were shut closed. You would have thought he was asleep.

Which he was, technically. It was just a permanent one.

Nagai leaned down and pointed at the finger wide tunnel. "As you can see, our buddy here got drilled. Side of the cranium, right through both temporals. The bullet was a real bastard. It went and shattered the sphenoid and vomer for good measure, just to be an asshole. Victim wouldn't have felt a thing. Instant death."

I loved how he talked about bullets as if they had minds of their own. That these tiny bits of metal and explosive powder hatched machinations while rubbing their hands with cartoonishly evil glee. Everyone needs hobbies, I guess.

"The culprit? 9mm cartridge. NATO parabellum," Nagai said with confidence as he once more covered up Saito's carcass. "We found the steel penetrator stuck inside a home down the block. Family was hysterical. Apparently the bullet broke their lamp and put itself inside their closet after ripping apart a fur coat. Took forever to find."

"Must have been a nice lamp." I mused uninterestedly. "Any guesses on the firearm?"

"Of course, who do you think I am?" Sneered Nagai, he walked over to a computer screen on the counter and nudged the mouse to wake the monitor. After a few clicks, a series of pictures showed up. "Classic case of a Type 54. Ballistics analysis on the bullet and the entry and exit wound matches up perfectly with records. The usual."

Type 54. A Chinese pistol that was prevalent everywhere in the SEA right now. It was an improvement in design over the old Type 51, which itself was a copy of the TT-33, the Soviet service pistol. Made after the Korean war, the Type 54 was distributed by China to North Vietnam during the ongoing war. After that, it was history. Guns with no records of ownership that could easily accept a ubiquitous round was quite desirable by criminals. A considerable number found their way into Japan, used by our very own Yakuza.

It was also the gun Ouma used.

"Is there anything else you can figure out?"

"Not much. Distance from the shooter was at least two meters, three at most. Close enough to be noticed, but also enough to absolutely make sure he was dead. From the film covering his teeth and material from a tongue scrape, he was smoking at the time of death."

"What about the scene of the crime?"

"Suburban neighborhood, in front of a convenience store where he had just bought a bottle of oolong tea according to witnesses."

The setting was starting to form in my imagination. As soon as it became tangible in my mind's eye, I knew what my next step was.

"Well, that's all I got." Nagai loudly removed his gloves before throwing them into the hazardous waste bin. "The reason for death, analysis, professional opinion, blah, blah, blah, blah. It's your problem now: figuring out the motive and finding the killer or whatnot."

"Hold on," I said quickly, attracting a curious look from Nagai. "Can I get the autopsy report?"

"What?" Growled Nagai, leveling a simmering glare at me. "Did you finally go off the deep end? I'm not even done. Besides, Hikigaya, you're not a newbie. You know I'm not allowed to."

I expected this, but I had a trump card ready. "Want to make a deal?"

"No." He huffed and turned around.

"It's about your wife."

That got his attention. Nagai quickly whirled around to face me with wide eyes. "... what?"

"I know something about your wife."

"What do you know!?" The scientist exclaimed, walking up to me.

I'm hardly phased.

"Let's make a deal then."

"... go on…"

"Give me the report, and I'll tell you if your wife is cheating on you or not."

"You saw her?"

"A few hours ago. She probably came to drop off lunch for you, right?"

Nagai's eyes buckled. "H-how…"

"Maybe try to get out some more? I could read your face like the morning paper." Didn't need to tell him his body language made it even easier; less a periodical and more like a children's picture book.

Nagai's eyes closed and he brought a few fingers to his temple in deep thought.

"Alright." Sighed Nagai. "If it's you Hikigaya, you're probably right."

It took ten minutes for Nagai to have the incomplete report printed. He handed me the packet with a stone-cold face. I took the papers without hesitation.

"So…?" Asked Nagai with baited breath.

I let out a heavy sigh before answering. "Stop being paranoid. The age gap doesn't mean anything to her. She just wants to see more of you, but your ass just stays down here, brooding. Go home earlier from now on. Eat at the table more. Quit being such a baby."

"Wha—"

I turned on my heel and walked away quickly, not being able to catch the rest of Nagai's words. Shiba scrambled after me, calling out my name hurriedly, but I didn't acknowledge him. My brain churned with a strange sort of outrage.

It really grinded my gears, watching people squander away happiness without a second thought. Feelings trampled and ideals tarnished; both the status quo for human beings. People are really terrible things. Maybe Nagai was right, working with dead bodies was probably the best thing ever.

Δ▼Δ

 _It was evening, and the late August air was starting to chill with the approach of Autumn. It made the brown jumper I was wearing a bit more appropriate, and I patted myself on the back for the unintentional foresight._

 _The car was parked in the lot just before the convenience store along a residential street. All was quiet, even the cicadas. The drop in temperature drop as the seasons changed was most likely the culprit for the disappearance of that characteristic buzz._

 _The automatic doors slide to the side to allow me entrance into the bodega. I quickly made a beeline to the wall of refrigerators in the back and grabbed a 0.5L bottle of amber oolong tea. My mind was monetarily fascinated by the condensation that formed on the glass when I pulled open the door to the cooler. On impulse, I took my index finger and drew a smiley face. The two vertical lines and upward arc beneath them beamed at me, and my lips form a grin right back._

 _I just had to keep telling myself: even though things were tough right now, it would get better._

 _The warmed food display was on the way to the register and I noticed an onigiri that sat by its lonesome. The feeling of kinship resonated within and I plucked it from the shelf and made my purchase at the front. When the cashier told me my total, I took out my wallet. In the past, it frequently would have been filled to the brim with cash and various credit cards. Now? I only carried 20,000 yen at max. The rest was stowed within the emergency flat tire tool-set that was underneath the carpet lining of the trunk of my car._

 _Genius, I know._

 _I handed a bill and I waved away the coins of my change the cashier tried to give me. Walking around with coins jingling in my pocket wouldn't attract that much attention, but I couldn't handle the idea of doing anything more to stand out. I took a bite into my onigiri. My luck was usually terrible, and this time was no different. The spiced fish-flake flavored paste didn't happen to be in the middle, but was instead shoved into a corner. The same corner I had just bitten into._

 _An overpowering taste of salt and burning spice ripped over my tongue and nose, the few bits of rice that managed to make it into my mouth did little to dilute it. My vision watered and I blinked a few times to rid my eyes of the tears. I wolfed down the rest of the snack, knowing that the taste couldn't get stronger since the brain can only detect a certain amount of any flavor. Everything past that threshold is not translated to sensation._

 _Twisting open the cap of my drink, I relished the refreshing taste. Ah, the simple joys._

 _The door chimed and a group of teenagers walked in, gossiping with loud voices and obnoxious laughter. I shook my head and decided to sip at the oolong tea while watching the tiny CRT television that was anchored above the book display. The channel it was set to was presenting a serial drama I was familiar with, since all the magazines were talking about it (been reading a ton of those lately). The plot wasn't anything to write home about, but the actors were famous and delivered convincing performances. Before I knew it, I had stuck around to watch the entire episode without a single clue where the time had gone._

 _Lifting the bottle and only feeling a single drop of the tea hit the tongue made me realize that it was empty. A sign that I should leave, perhaps._

 _I dumped the plastic container into the recycling bin on my way out, hoping that the gods would give me some good karma for helping out Mother Earth. After exchanging nods with the cashier, the worker bid me farewell with a polite bow._

" _Thank you! Please come again!"_

 _The doors chimed again as I stepped back out into the cold air that was again staved off by my thick brown jumper. A breeze passed by and shook the trees, causing the branches to rattle and sound like a storm. A hand went into my back pocket and pulled out a box of cigarettes and a lighter. I shake the box vertically, before taking out a single white stick and holding it between my teeth. I thought I had kicked this habit a few years ago, since cigarette smoke tended to turn off women. Shallow, I know, but it worked and it was healthy._

 _But when the goings got rough (and boy, was it rough right now) the sensation of smoking a cig just calmed down the jitters. I cupped the end of the cancer stick and flicked the lighter's top. A small flame shot out of the top of the lighter, igniting the cigarette into a smooth burn in a single go._

 _Good omen. Thanks, divine spirits above, I'll recycle more often._

 _A tired breath escaped from between my lips, the action accentuated by acrid smelling white smoke that billowed out my mouth and nose. I looked downwards, taking the time to appreciate how the lights pouring out of the large windows of the convenience store illuminated the sidewalk in an ethereal manner. However, that feeling turned into confusion as the world shuddered. Suddenly the concrete floor was flying up towards my face._

 _Oh no. I'm falling._

 _Just as my face was about to impact the concrete, I heard a loud pop that echoed throughout the quiet street._

 _Here came the sidewalk now._

 _My nose touched first, and I heard a sickening crack before it all went black._

 **This. This was how I imagined Saitama Toshi's final moments must have gone.**

I opened my eyes and was greeted by the sunbeams that spilled from my window and disturbed my slumber. I had forgotten to close my blinds last night, and also hadn't bothered to change out of my work attire before I went to sleep. My hand reached out and fumbled around, reaching blindly until a finger made contact with my phone.

Even in the bright daylight, the sharp glow of the backlit-screen made me wince. The time was 8:02AM. I'm late for work.

The bed creaked as I sat up, swinging my legs over the side. I felt clammy and had a layer of cold sweat covering my forehead. On the floor near my feet were the crumpled remains of the autopsy report I bargained with Nagai to get. I could recall every sentence, word for word. Who knew how many sleepless hours I had spent pouring over the ink to shove it all into my mind.

"Finally managed to wake up?" A familiar male voice emanated from in front of me.

I look upwards, seeing an equally familiar face. It was decidedly Japanese, with no real distinguishing characteristics. He did have a dopey expression, however. Brown jumper on his upper body, black jeans covered his lower. His skin was motley pale in complexion, having the same shade of green as spoiled milk. Blood trailed down from either side of a gorey tunnel that went from one side of his head to the other.

"Seen enough, pal?" Saito probed with a small smile. "You were up all night memorizing that shit."

"No..." I denied with trembling breath and shook my head from side to side. "No. No. No. No."

"..." Saito said nothing and just held that smile like a mannequin. A drop of blood fell from his earlobe, but the sound of it hitting the hardwood floor never came.

"I don't have enough." I admitted, putting my head into my hands. My fingers ran through my hair, painfully pulling them at the roots. This was the only thing that provided any measure of relief from the oncoming headache. There was a torrent of blood rushing in my ears, drowning out this reality through oppressive white noise.

Saito once again had nothing to contribute to the concophany.

"It's never enough." I managed to choke out finally. My throat was hoarse, as if it hadn't seen use in years. "No image. No sound. No thought." My brain was unable to make coherent sentences, as the world shimmered before my eyes like a dreamscape.

Saito broke his silence with a harsh chuckle that did little to ease the throbbing in my head. The pressure had continued to grow since the moment I gained consciousness, and now my skull felt like a balloon ready to burst.

His snickers escalated into barks of manic laughter that grated my soul. "Yeah? Alrighty then, see ya on the fucking flipside! I'll send a postcard to let you know how hot the fires are."

"Sure."

"As long as you don't forget about me."

"Never."

Suddenly my doorbell rang. My spine stiffened and froze my body in place. There it was again; once, twice, thrice more. Whoever was at the door must have lost patience because they began hurriedly knocking now. I covered my face with my hands and slowly slid them down before looking at the empty chair before me. Inhaling deeply, I tried to bring some like into my petrified limbs. I made my way down the halls unsteadily, having to use the wall for support as I neared the front door. Behind it was a wide eyed and hyperventilating Shiba.

"Senpai!?"

"... Shiba…?"

"Where were you!?" He exclaimed. "I called you at least 5 times in the past hour!"

"... what?" I looked at the phone in my hand. The time was 10:37 AM, and I had several missed calls. "Shit."

"Nevermind that!" His eyes were excited, but in an unsettled manner. "We have to go! We have a lead on Aoi!"

"... give me a few minutes."

Δ▼Δ

While I was asleep, some strange things had occurred at HQ. The way Shiba recounted the events made it sound like something out of an overblown crime drama.

A strange package had been delivered to the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department building during the first wave of morning mail. It was a nondescript and small brown box with no return destination, but was addressed to the TMPD as a whole. The entire scenario would have raised red flags in any cop worth his salt, but with the terrorist attack on the Philippine Embassy a few weeks ago still fresh in minds, many thought (and rightfully so) that it was a bomb.

However, the box was exceedingly light and preemptive x-rays showed that there was but a single object in the box. It was a small and thin rectangular thing, just a few centimeters in length and width. The risk to open the package was taken. Cracking it open, they found a smartphone. There was no fingerprint or password lock. In fact, the phone had no protection whatsoever ("Straight up, horror-movie shit," one junior officer had commented to nervous laughter).

Its presence was inexplicable, and so the theories had begun about the purpose of this mysterious package. Some had brushed it away as some sort of prank. Other's joked that a bomber had dropped their cellphone in by accident when wrapping the thing and we'd hear an explosion go off somewhere soon. However, the true reason why an unlocked phone was sent to the police was discovered three hours after it was delivered, when a text message came to the device stating: _"Aoi Kaito can be found at this address: …."_ Attached was a location in Minato.

By this point, Shiba had noticed that I had not come to the office and diligently waited for me while the rest of the department mobilized to head to the address given in such an indirect manner. He began to worry when half an hour turned into an hour. Concern transformed into fear when it became an hour and a half. Throw in the fact that he had called a few times to no response, and Shiba had officially assumed the worst.

The ultimate mother-hen, indeed.

We loaded into Shiba's car and drove to Minato to meet up with the rest of the force. The address in question lead to _danchi_ apartment building among a cluster of similar residences in the area. An entire cohort of police cruisers, an ambulance, and a few familiar personal cars lined along the road. Police caution tape surrounded the building while plastic roadblocks closed off either side of the street. Officers had asked residents to stay inside while the investigation was ongoing, but of course this was ignored and a crowd of people stood behind the barriers while murmuring in curiosity.

The text message also included an apartment number, specifically the first unit on the west side of the second floor. It was a bustling scene, with investigators and other officers milling in and out through the singular door that was left ajar.

Walking inside, I was met with a rather off putting scene. Weeks of reading dossiers and looking at reports had made me familiar with Aoi's appearance, so I instantly recognized him… or rather instantly recognized his dead body. He was laying on the floor with arms folded over his chest and legs stretched slightly in either direction. Comfy, as if he had simply decided to take a nap on the tatami floor.

"Well, shit." I muttered, bending down to crouch over the man who was supposed to be our lead. "There goes that plan."

"Hikigaya. Fancy seeing you here." Greeted Hiura as he appeared in the entrance behind me in a navy blue police-branded windbreaker over his button-up shirt . Wet hair that was slicked backwards giving me the impression that he probably had gotten out of the shower when he first got the news. "I see Shiba's managed to find you."

"I wish he hadn't." I sighed, causing Shiba to frown. "Hello, Hiura. What are you doing this fine afternoon?"

"Oh, you know. The usual." Hiura mused tiredly, his eyes following the crime scene investigators and scribes as they collected evidence in the forms of pictures and written descriptions on report sheets. "Figuring out where I went wrong in life. Dad told me to be a paralegal. I said it was boring, now I'm starting to think that this job may be a bit too exciting."

"Didn't you volunteer to be transferred to the drug trafficking case, Hiura-san?" Shiba asked, puzzled.

Hiura groaned. "Yeah I did. Didn't have enough PTO to go on vacation, so after the laundromat burned down I asked the Chief to put me on this case, seeing as it was active and whatnot. With you two on it as well, I thought it couldn't be that bad."

"You underestimate me, Detective." I smirked facetiously. "I was born underneath the most unfortunate of stars."

"I'm pretty sure that's the case for most of us in this line of work. Although, some do get more than their fair share." Hiura agreed as he rolled his shoulders, a common stiffness we all felt from sitting in a chair while hunched over a desk all day.

"Succinct and witty. You're an absolute poet, Hiura."

"I try. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade, right?"

"An adage of golden words. Riddle me this, then: what do I do when life delivers to my door a particularly big and fleshly lemon that smells like carrion?"

"Great question. Well, first you gotta figure out how you got the damn thing on your front step to begin with. We found him like this. A syringe in one hand and puncture marks on his left forearm. We sent the syringe for testing, but we're pretty sure it's heroin."

"OD'd? Ouch." I responded and kneeled by Aoi. He had a pristine button up shirt on that was accompanied by a single solid colored dark-blue made from an obviously expensive material. Sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing thin arms and coarse veins. Trousers were beige, and had perfect creases down their length. His hair was a light brown, and neatly combed over to the side. "I have no clue what I'm looking at."

"From the blue tint to his skin we can assume that hypoxia was involved," said Hiura.

"Is that something heroin would do?" I asked.

"Heroin is morphine diacetate, an opiod, Senpai." Shiba informed. "Opioids are a class of active-group that bind to inhibitory G-protein-coupled receptors, or 'opioid-receptors.' They control the central and peripheral nervous system as well as the gastrointestinal tract. Death by overdose includes clinical presentation of stroke, cardiac arrest, arrhythmia, or hypotension. The most common method of death however… is that victims tend to forget to breathe."

"Oh." The childish meme, 'You are now breathing manually' was actually an anti-heroin overdose procedure. The more you know. "Do we have an estimated time of death?"

"A few hours ago according to one of the forensics guys. 7 to 8AM."

I raised an eyebrow and turned to face my partner. 'Shiba?"

Shiba sighed while massaging the back of his neck. "... the package arrived at HQ during the first run. Assuming he dropped it off at the main post office in Tokyo, it would have to before the cutoff at 7AM. The text message came at close to 8:50AM."

"... yikes…" Breathed Hiura, rubbing his eyes.

"Curious, isn't it?" I pondered aloud, empathizing with my fellow law enforcer. "I'm an inexperienced and young Detective and all, but I'm pretty sure dead bodies don't have the dexterity in their thumbs to type."

"Gets a bit stranger I'm afraid." Hiura dug through his pocket before handing me a folded paper square. "I spent most of the morning going through security camera footage of the main post office, and I got something."

I unfolded the wedge and smoothed out the wrinkles. It was a gray scale isometric photo of what appeared to be the floor of the post office. I could make out the tell tale silhouettes of waiting line ropes and the counter at the front. A shadowed figure stood there, frozen in the image as he spoke to a worker at the front with a box in hand. My eyes flicked to the timestamp at the bottom right of the paper.

"Someone came and delivered something at 6:30AM…. Is it Aoi?" I asked Hiura.

"Bingo."

I exhaled and folded the image once more before returning it back to Hiura. "So the timeline we have right now is that Aoi delivered a package to the post office at 6:30AM. Package arrives at HQ around 8:10AM, and Aoi died sometime before that. Finally, we get a text message by 8:50AM telling us where to find Aoi's body… what a mess…"

"Perhaps it's a diversion? Someone wanted us to find Aoi's body to distract the attention of the police?" Shiba suggests.

"There's one more thing I want to show you." Hiura motioned with a tilt of his head towards one of the rooms down a hallway. We followed him and came to a small room with a singular window that illuminated the white painted walls. There was a crinkled futon on the floor, as if someone had just slept there just moments prior. A wooden desk was against the wall and above it…

"You have _**got**_ to be kidding me…"

Charcoal characters ominously spelled out a sentence on the wall. The eerie neatness of the strokes combined with the creepy shape of the blotchy lines had created a chilling scene, especially when considering we had a dead body just down the hall.

"What is this? _Fatal Frame_?" I scoffed. [4]

A series of complicated kanji adorned the walls forming the sentences:

" 建築中の聖域について、次のようにソロモンに語りました。わたしが言うとおりにし、わたしの命令を忠実に守るなら、あなたの父ダビデに約束したことを実行しよう。"

"The words came to Solomon: 'As for this temple you are building, if you follow my decrees, observe my laws and keep all my commands and obey them, I will fulfill through you the promise I gave to David your father.'" Shiba read aloud, slowly. "Hold on, 'Solomon' and 'David?' Aren't these names from the Christian Bible?"

"That's correct." Hiura confirmed. "Specifically they're from the Old Testament, we cross-referenced the lines and they're from—"

"First book of Kings." I reflexively said, interrupting the older detective. "Chapter 6, verses 11 and 12."

"..."

"..."

A silence befell the room, prompting me to glance over at the two. Hiura gave me a strange look while Shiba's mouth hung open.

"Oh yeah, sorry." I apologized. "I'm quoting from the New International Version. My bad."

"Senpai…" Said Shiba in shock. "You're Christian?"

"Nah. When there's only one book around to read for a year, things tend to stick."

Hiura chuckled while shaking his head. "Hikigaya's becoming a holy man."

I chuckled and stepped closer to the wall and carefully read the passage again. I compared it to the mental version of the English Bible I had memorized in Sri Lanka, translating on the fly. "If anything, my belief in deities got worse. Besides, Aoi's made some omissions and changes that are kinda strange."

"What do you mean?" Asked Hiura.

"For starters, there's no explicit identity of the speaker given. The speaker of this line was originally 'LORD', or 'God.' But with the way the sentence is set up right now, the implication is that the speaker is the writer."

"Which would be Aoi…" Shiba reasoned, voice trailing off as he contemplates. "Wait, so are you saying that he's talking to us as God?"

I tilted my head from side to side. "Maybe… I could be reading too much into it. His kanji word choice also stands out. The kanji for 'temple' that we normally use in this context is '神殿' ( _shinden)_. But here he used '聖域' ( _seiiki)._ You don't usually read this as 'temple,' but more as a way to describe a sacred site, or a holy area that's limited to a few, like a 'garden' or… a 'sanctuary'..."

I bit my tongue. Something was about to click, I could just feel it. There was a connection my brain was trying to make. Think, Hachiman. Think!

"If this is Aoi speaking to us as the 'LORD' then this reads as more of a command than a suicide note." Hiura repeated my conclusions with a furrowed brow. "But if that's the case, what does he mean by 'fulfill?'"

"'Fulfill'..." I repeated softly under my breath, feeling the air pass between my teeth.

Aoi was speaking to us as "the LORD." Yet he kept the names of Solomon and David, the two kings of ancient Israel. Why not replace them like he did with the previous identity? Occam's Razor stated that the simplest solution tended to be the best solution. Let's apply that here: what was the most obvious reason Aoi left those explicit names?

"He's trying to communicate with someone or something who he considers as Solomon and David." I announced while looking at my colleagues, all of whom seemed to have to deduced something similar by the serious looks on their faces.

"Solomon was the son of David." Hiura said. "Is there some sort of familial relation between the hypothetical targets of the message?"

"Solomon was known as the wisest man in the world. He had requested information from God." Shiba added in. "It could be a teacher or a mentor of sorts. Perhaps a professor at Aoi's school? Maybe his own father?"

"If that was the case, why go through the trouble to contact the police first?" I questioned, causing the other two to go quiet as they wracked their heads to find a theory that covered all the bases. This part of the job was simultaneously the most interesting as well as the most stressful. With limited clues, we had to come up with a plausible hypothesis that we could operate on to find further leads. It was half educated inferences, half luck, and half gut feeling. Unlike Solomon, we couldn't simply ask some higher power for more knowledge.

What a funny thought, detectives asking for help from a higher power. Would make things a heck of a lot easier...

Hold on.

"Solomon isn't a single person." I said suddenly. "Aoi is trying to inform a group of people who seek knowledge. 'Solomon' is 'us.'"

"'Us?'" Repeated Shiba in confusion.

"'Us' as in 'detectives.' Aren't we technically seekers of knowledge? Our job is to gather information from as many sources as possible, and in many circumstances we end up asking others for that wisdom. Why would Aoi contact the police department first? And in such a roundabout way? He wanted us to receive the message first, and he wanted us to know that he has something to tell us."

"What's the intention? And why commit suicide? He could have come to the police with information and asked for protection." Hiura questioned, and rightly so. That would be the logical course of action.

My mind returned back to the previous week, to my final meeting with Saito. Saito was in a similar situation, and yet he couldn't directly go to the police, he was being chased by… Sanctum.

And what synonym of 'sanctum' has the same word at its root?

'Sanctuary.'

聖域

"Aoi was afraid that he wouldn't get to us in time." I explained, closing my eyes and imagining the thought process the medical student must have undergone. "He wanted to get the message to us without anyone knowing he was communicating with law enforcement. "

"... suicide was a way to ensure that the truth of what he did wasn't going to be taken out of him." Shiba added with a heavy tone. "This can only mean that he has information on the drug trade, the human trafficking, and Ouma. He feared retribution like Fujiwara."

"That makes sense." Agreed Hiura, massaging his elbow. "We can assume that this 'fulfilling' is to give us the information connecting to that. No. Actually it would be more realistic to assume he knew something that connected the three. But how?"

How indeed?

God gave Solomon knowledge by speaking to him directly into the mind. A personal form of communication. I cleared my mind and gathered the clues we had so far: Sanctum was involved; personal form of communication; Aoi; his relationship to Ouma; Aoi's strange method of communicating us through cell phones…

Communication. Cell phone. Personal form of communication.

 _Cell phones_ _ **are**_ _a personal form of communication_.

"The phone. That's how." My head whipped towards Shiba and my mind raced as the big picture started to form in my mind. I had to slow down my words to avoid stuttering. "Shiba, the phone that was delivered to HQ got a text message, right? Do you have the number of the sender?"

"Y-yes!" Shiba fumbled through his pockets and pulled out a notepad with a series of numbers. "We called it several times at HQ and managed to go through several carrier numbers, but no one ever picked up. As a result we weren't able to trace a location through the cell phone towers."

"No need. Call it again."

"O-ok."

Shiba took a few moments to punch in the numbers on his smartphone's virtual keypad. He traded a look with Hiura and I before nodding and pressing the green call button with his thumb. Several tense moments passed as we heard the soft hum from Shiba's phone as it tried to reach the mysterious number.

A muffled ringtone began playing from within the room. It was generic in melody, but distinct enough that all of us could easily assume that it wasn't from any devices we had. I moved slowly, using my well trained ears to pin down the source of the sound. Without the threat of gunfire from the shadows of foliage, it was relatively easy to narrow it down. It was coming from the desk that sat beneath the message written on the wall. Without hesitation, I pulled the single drawer it had, only to be surprised when I saw a completely empty storage space. There was not even a speck of dust.

But the ringtone got louder.

Well, since we're playing by tropes here, might as well…

I gently felt around the bottom of the drawer with my finger tips. The weight of my press made the plywood floor near the back dip downwards while the front lifted. As if the entire thing was resting on a fulcrum, like a seesaw.

My lips froze into a stiff line and my fingers pushed harder on the back. The plywood came up further with a soft sound. The front was now pivoted high enough for us to see what was underneath the false plywood bottom. It didn't take a genius to figure out that this was a hidden compartment. I pulled on the slip of wood, it took some strength as it was precisely cut to the dimensions of the drawer.

"... I think I've seen it all now." Hiura commented as he took the plywood square from me.

With the fake bottom now removed, the ringtone was even louder and completely clear. It continued sounding off for a few more moments before ending. At the bottom of the drawer were three objects: a smartphone, a piece of paper, and a very familiar white card.

"Senpai…" Shiba whispered to me, his eyes noticing the plastic rectangle. "That's…"

"Yeah. I know." I murmured back. I ignored the white card and reached for the piece of paper. Flipping it over, I inhaled a sharp breath. This attracted Hiura's interest as he came over to look at what I saw.

"Oh, fuck…" Hiura let out breathlessly.

On the paper was a black and white photo with relatively good resolution. It showcased Aoi wearing the clothing he did now with another unfamiliar man. And then between them was a young girl wearing a simple dress.

And taking the context of this wild investigation into mind…

"Shiba, call the Chief." I ordered lifelessly. I reached into the drawer and pulled out the smartphone. As expected, there was no passcode or fingerprint lock stopping me from accessing it. "Aoi has information on this girl, and he's going to tell us through the smartphone like he did at HQ. He wants the police to get to the bottom of this. All of it: drugs, human trafficking, everything."

"On it." Shiba quickly dialed another number and left the room, and I could hear his hurried voice speaking austerely with the Chief as he walked down the hall.

Hiura and I stood there silently, both digesting the sudden turn of events.

"Damn it." Growled Hiura in frustration, hanging his head and scratching his scalp furiously. "Where is this case going? Drugs, to human trafficking, to money laundering, to this? This can't just be a coincidence right?"

"I don't know." I grabbed the white card and held it up to the light. Just like my own card, there were strange striated swirls over the surface despite it feeling completely smooth.

"I don't know."

But we would get to the bottom of this. We had to.

Or else there would be no meaning to the deaths of Ouma Daichi, Aoi Kaito, and Saitama Toshi. There would be no meaning to me making it out of that Jungle clinging to my life like a coward.

 **Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**

References:

[1] The Japanese retailer, MUJI, has a set of aluminum pens and pencils that I swear by. Nagai has the taste of a patrician, and thus uses them as well.

[2] Noble is a brand of Japanese candy, and one of their products is lemon drops. It's quite popular from what I hear, unfortunately haven't seen or tried it in America.

[3] Dungeons and Dragons reference. When a character is trying to deceive another, the character being lied to will roll for insight. If the insight roll is lower than the deception skill the lie is accepted. Else, the lie is caught.

[4] Fatal Frame is a series of Japanese horror games about cute girls getting stuck in haunted areas with the usual tropes of the horror genre all around. Our heroine(s) has to use a camera to take pictures of spirits to make them leave you alone. Equal parts scary and wack, Fatal Frame lacks the charm of the utter absurdity of the Resident Evil games, but it has interesting game play.

 **Author's Note:**

 **This chapter marks the slow crawl down insanity that Hachiman embarks upon. The title refers to the phrase: "A mind like a steel trap." This is commonly used to describe someone with a good memory or someone who is unable to forget things. Hachiman's guilt has manifested into an obsession to remember the one he feels he has failed, Saito being the most recent. Our protagonist may be a man of compromise, but he is an idealist human at the end of the day.**

 **Special thanks to thatguy8801 for being my soundboard for this chapter. Without his assistance I doubt this would have ever come out. He's currently writing the story "A New Request." Please, go and check it out.**

 **-SouBU  
** **(Editors: Lord of Admirals, Xynovitch)**

 _Revision Log:  
_ _03/17/2020: Re-uploaded with overhaul of tenses and changes in word choice and sentence structure as well as major grammar fixes. Edited author's note to be more succinct and relevant._


	21. Friends Close, Nothing Closer

**Chapter 21: "Friends Close, Nothing Closer"**

 _ ***Yukinoshita Yukino**_  
 _ ***Yanaka, Bunkyo  
**_ _ **[August 27th / 3:22 PM]**_

"Oh no!" A high-pitched voice exclaimed while still somehow managing to be a whisper.

I stopped mid-step on the stairs to the art museum and turned around slowly. "Is something wrong, Yui-san?"

"Eh he he." The teacher-to-be looked at me sheepishly with a hand held behind her head. "I think I left something back at the museum."

"Oh." I blinked, not at all surprised at the blunder. "We should make haste then, in case-"

"N-no!" Yui-san waved both hands at me in a panic. "I can do it alone. How about you go and save a bench at the park? We can go and eat after I come back."

"Are you certain－"

"Thanks, Yukinon! I'll be right back!" Like the human storm she was, Yui-san blasted away back into the museum before I could finish my sentence.

A sigh escaped me. I was not exactly sure what I was expecting from my friend. A bit wanting, perhaps.

This excursion was made on short notice, as Yui-san was given a sudden weekend break from her workplace and immediately jumped at the chance to come to Tokyo to "hang out" (in her words). I hadn't lived in Tokyo for too long, but I knew my way around most of the popular tourist destinations and offered to guide her through them. The trip began with sky-scrapper appreciation in the business district and ended at Yanaka's Tokyo National Art Museum.

A breeze pushed tendrils of hair to my face, reminding me of the present time. Standing on the marble staircase, my breath was momentarily caught by the view before me. It was a late summer evening told of in poems and books: a sky with a low setting sun that dyed the world in warm red hues alongside lazy clouds that moved slowly to the march of the whimsical breeze.

The museum was located within Ueno Park. Being here was like being engulfed in the tranquility of nature, completely contrasting with the atmosphere of oppressive 'humanness' that was metropolitan Tokyo. It was not to say that one was better than the other; the slowness and ambiance of the old town of Yanaka was as necessary to maintain a good temperance as was the city's sea of people and dynamism.

Taking care to place one stable foot down after another, I slowly followed the marble steps as they lowered me to the bottom of the hill. All the while, I listened to the sounds around me. Adults talked in hushed words that were indistinguishable from the wind at times. Children stampeded past, racing up and down the stairs of the museum in a made up game. But between it all, there were times where all that I could hear was the rustling of leaves and crashing of waves.

I strolled to a set of benches that overlooked the lake from beyond a black metal fence. It had a splendid view of a bright red pagoda a certain distance away, a beacon for attention. I sat down quietly on the wooden surface and looked around, noting the various carts that were serving food. It was getting to be quite late; perhaps we should have a light snack and simply settle for a more filling dinner?

"Yukinon!" that excitable voice yelled from behind me, disrupting my train of thought. I sighed once more, suddenly feeling much older than I was. Standing and turning around, I parted my lips in preparation of delivering a chastisement to Yui-san . But the words evaporated from my lungs as my eyes widened at the sight before me.

"Hey!" Yui-san waved at me with her right hand while skipping happily. Her left arm had an unfortunate person held in a visible vice grip. "Look who I found!"

"H-Hikigaya- kun…"

There before me was one of the detectives of Tokyo: Hikigaya Hachiman. The man looked haggard. Dark circles sat beneath his eyes and he wore an unkempt suit. A tie was strung haphazardly around his collar. His brown eyes flickered to me before glancing away, suddenly enamored with the pagoda on the lake. Butterflies were in my stomach now.

"It's nice he managed to come after all, isn't it?" Yui-san pinched Hikigaya-kun's bicep, causing him to yelp.

"Look!" Hikigaya-kun scowled as only a man being subjected to physical abuse could. "I only came because you sent me a text saying it was an emergency! I came as quickly as I could from work!"

He was at work? I was certain he had today off every week, since he usually worked the evening shift the night before.

Yui-san seemingly felt no shame and stuck out her tongue. "Well, it _**was**_ an emergency! I'm in Tokyo to visit and my best friends aren't all here!"

An exquisite move. Hikigaya-kun was cornered and finished by the bait-and-switch Yui-san had pulled. He opened his mouth to say something, but shut it closed with an audible sound. He looked away and grumbled, an arm coming up to scratch the back of his bird's nest of a head.

Wait just a moment...

I narrowed my eyes at Yui-san . "Did you really forget your phone?"

"Ehhh… maybeeeee?" She responded, her eyes desperately looking in any direction but my own. I could only shake my head and saw Hikigaya-kun rolling his eyes, mostly likely also piecing together the situation and Yui-san 's master plan.

There was a brief lull of silence, none of us knowing what to say.

"... H-have you... eaten yet?" I asked. I had not seen him for nearly three days. He returned no responses to my calls or text messages. It would seem my theory that he was working himself to the bone again was correct, but this time… it felt different. He had a strange gait and countenance that radiated… something. Something was wrong.

And it scared me.

I suddenly felt as if I did not know the man across from me anymore. Like a new soul now inhabited the body of my former clubmate and dear friend. I shook my head, trying to assure myself that I was simply overthinking things. Yes. That was it… I was just being… paranoid.

Hikigaya-kun gently pried Yui-san's fingers from his arm. She gave a satisfied nod and allowed him to do so. He spoke so softly I nearly missed the words. "... no. I haven't."

"Then let's eat!" Yui-san grabbed both of our arms and pulled us towards the street vendors.

"OW! Woman, can you stop pinching me!?"

"Hikki's a real wimp."

"You two… please… public."

It took some deliberation, but eventually we settled on buying some cheese tarts. The mellow flavor truly suited the cooling weather of the season. We did not eat silently… or rather, Yui-san did not eat silently. With energy only she was capable of generating, she regaled Hikigaya-kun of our trip to the art museum with vivid descriptions and hand gestures.

Occasionally, I was asked to supplement the gaps in her knowledge, but for the most part she genuinely seemed to enjoy the outing. I felt relieved knowing that I was not a complete failure of a guide. Hikigaya-kun nodded and uttered some few words, doing the bare minimum responsibility expected of someone roped into a conversation. Just like he did at highschool. I stopped chewing at the thought, slowly lowering my hands that held the treat to rest on my lap.

Yes… highschool.

What was Hikigaya-kun like in highschool? Why did it seem so hard to recall? Back then, did he have the same vacant eyes that stared out over the lake as he did now? Did he always slump as if he was dead on his feet and was only able to continue functioning out of sheer willpower? Could I ever remember a time where his hands held a snack, pristine if not for a few nibbled edges indicating that someone had attempted to consume it?

A pit formed at the bottom of my stomach, denser than anything I had experienced in a long time.

"H－." I started in a low voice, but was cut off by the unexpected full sentence uttered by Hikigaya-kun.

"You know, I never expected you to be the type to enjoy stuff like that," he said casually. "Like the whole visiting museums, appreciating art, and whatnot."

All of my thoughts came braking to a halt, and reflex took over.

"Hikigaya-kun!" I exclaimed. His eyes widened as he probably realized what his words sounded like.

Before I could begin to admonish him for his rude statement, Yui-san began to giggle. It soon turned into full blown laughter, with Yui-san holding her stomach with both hands.

"N-no! It's fine, Yukinon!" She managed to convey between breaths. "Oh gosh, my sides. It's just like Hikki to be so blunt, right?"

Well… I could see the humor in his denseness. It made him feel endearing to a small degree. A very small degree. Infinitesimally small, in fact.

"But…" Yui-san began, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes, her words trailing as she looked up at the sky. "I guess it is sorta out of character, isn't it?"

"Not at all." Hikigaya-kun gave an undignified snort, letting the back of his neck hang over the bench. "Unless I missed the memo, and we were supposed to maintain character roles. I gotta quit my job if that's the case."

Yui-san let out a breath with a gentle smile from where she stood by the railing, finally looking down at us with hands folded. "I would probably have to say that teaching kids has made me a bit more interested in this stuff." "

"How so?" I asked.

"People always say that kids hate school, but that's not true." She explained. "Kids just get bored easily because they don't understand how the things they learn matter to them. They actually really enjoy stuff like history because they love knowing how people used to live and how it's different from our own lives."

"That's quite the observation." I was impressed. "But it does make sense."

"Doesn't it? So the more I thought about it and looked into it, the more I started liking this stuff too. We go to museums in Chiba and the kids love it when the tour guide talks and answers questions. I was thinking that there are some potential field trip ideas here."

Another moment came without anyone speaking, marked by the delighted yelling of children as they ran past us with crepes in hand.

"And…" Yui-san looked at me with confusion in her eyes, before dropping her gaze to her feet, where her feet shuffled along with hands fidgeting.

"Is something wrong, Yui-san ?" I asked with worry.

"N-no… well kinda."

"I'm perfectly happy lending an ear to whatever issue you may have. We are friends after all, are we not?"

"Thanks Yukinon, but it's a bit silly, I guess." Yui-san gave me a reassuring smile. She sat down on the bench in the vacant space between Hikigaya-kun and I. Taking out her phone from her skirt pocket, Yui-san deftly navigated with her thumb to the photo folder containing all of the pictures she had taken today.

"How so?"

"Well… there's all this amazing art from so long ago, and it's really obvious how much work they put into it. And-" Yui-san stopped mid-sentence as she bit her lip slightly.

"Go on," I said softly.

"... I can't really see how they used to live. All this early stuff doesn't give a sense of that. It's almost always about war."

The blood in my veins stilled.

"... I see," I said carefully, with the feeling that I was having to drag the words out of my mind. "W-well art during the early days was not viable as a way of life. Most of it before a certain time was commissioned works by the elite and ruling class. They were the only ones who could afford the time, labor, and material cost of art, and as a result they wanted self images for their future generations or for self-congratulation and status. The common person wasn't considered and so most art was just that."

"When did things change?" My best friend asked with serious eyes that seemed to shine.

My breath was nearly a whisper, and my heart was beating hard against my chest. Anxiety bubbled in my core, thick and heavy like sludge. Why? Why did Yui-san's words pierce me so? Why did I feel as if I was struck by lightning?

"I believe a shift occurred during the Renaissance, when the rich and nobility started the patronage system. They financially supported artists and allowed them to do as they pleased as a show of their cultured nature to their peers. As we come closer to the modern day, everyday life became an aspect of fascination too."

"Ohhh." Yui-san breathed and nodded her head slowly. "That makes sense."

"I'm sorry if my explanation was lacking." I hurriedly apologized.

"No, no, no! Not at all! Yukinon's explanation was great! I'm just sad." She let out a small, frustrated, breath. "Why did they think war was so important? It's so horrible, and evil, and… and…"

"Yui-sa-"

"Because war defines us." Hikigaya-kun's words cut through like a sharp blade, silencing both of us despite him speaking no louder than normal. "It's all that we know."

Dread returned as my mind processed the words.

"... what?" Yui-san asked, perturbed, speaking for the both of us.

"It's the mark of civilization. The sole metric that indisputably shows advancement." He continued, ostensibly ignoring Yui-san or simply not registering her words. "When two people fight, and one kills the other, doesn't it mean that one had made more progress than the other? What if the victor kept fighting and kept winning?"

Neither of us knew what to say. Hikigaya-kun leaned over in his seat, elbows resting on his knees. The motion caused his tie to slip from his collar and fall to the ground soundlessly.

"War is the final judge. Whose gods are stronger? Who has rights to this resource? Who should own all this wealth? 'Might makes right' in a simple world where it's dog-eat-dog. And why not? Take their water, their food, their lands for your own. Enslave their people. And with all these riches, erect monuments to your 'superiority' that will last millenia. For eons. War delivers all and decides all. That's why we relish it.

"It's our primal instinct. Our genes, our very nature, make us love war. It's why we keep doing it. It means superiority. War gives that: a failsafe legacy. A way to always be remembered… Yeah… that has to be it… The only explanation. Nothing else makes sense.…" His voice trailed off as he talked, and at some point had begun speaking to himself. "Always be remembered… Monuments… Don't forget them…."

Yui-san stared at the rambling detective with wide eyes, face devoid of any emotion other than confusion. I was sure I had something similar on my own visage, assuming my frozen veins would even allow my facial muscles to move.

Suddenly, Hikigaya-kun let out a rumbling chuckle. It lacked any sense of joviality or lightness even though his shoulders shook in amusement. It felt more akin to sheets of ice tumbling within a cavern. "Hilarious. I made a legacy so strong it follows me even in my dreams. What a joke."

What? Nothing he said computed. My mind blanked.

"Haaaah." The man let out a heavy sigh, reaching down to pick up his fallen tie. "I think that's enough break time for me. I got to get back—!"

As Hikigaya-kun had attempted to stand, his legs crumbled beneath him, causing him to go falling forward. He quickly grabbed the black railing for support, his head hanging over the edge and looking straight down into the depths of the lake. The violent sequence before me was enough to jump start my brain, and I got off the bench to move to his side. Yui-san was not far behind.

"Hikki!"

"Hikigaya-kun!"

He looked at us through bleary eyes, the bags underneath making his pupils seem blacker than coals. He blinked several times before pulling himself up. "I'm fine… just stood up too fast… low blood pressure and all. Low salt in my diet and all that jazz. Gotta watch out for that ha ha."

Empty laughter. Like Haruno used to. Like Mother used to.

I wrapped my fingers around the wrist of the hand that held his tie. "You can't expect me to honestly believe that, can you?"

I tried to ignore the crazed beating of my heart, but it echoed in my ears, threatening to swallow whatever words my former clubmate might say. Despite my better judgement, I looked straight into his eyes, willing myself to somehow transfer my concern through them.

I don't know what he glimpsed, but all that I saw was a tired void.

"Hikki." Yui-san spoke out clearly, with sternness I didn't know she was capable of. "You don't look okay."

Hikigaya-kun broke eye contact with me and looked over at my best friend before returning to stare at my hand that had his wrist imprisoned. He let out a frustrated sigh, standing up and brushing a hand over his face and hair before returning to rest in his pocket.

"I'm fine," he said, his voice going flat like the ECG of a dead patient. I had heard this so many years before. A neutral tone with no noticeable treble or bass to indicate any sort of emotion. It was well rehearsed to a sickening degree. As if it was said enough times to convince even the speaker of the falsehood. "And I'm busy. Can you please let go?"

"Absolutely not. Clearly, you are in no way shape or form able to -"

Suddenly, a generic ringtone went off, filling our surroundings with sounds of rendered windchimes and bells. It was not mine, so I looked over at Yui-san who shook her head.

"It's mine." Hikigaya informed, hand sliding out of his pocket with his phone in its grasp. He looked forward, away from either us and held the device to his ear. After a moment, he spoke. "Chief?"

Chief? Police Chief Tsurumi?

"Yeah, what's… yeah I didn't punch out… n-no I'll fix the time sheet… Wait, are you sure? We need to requisition server data? Hold on.…"

Hikigaya-kun lowered the phone to look at the time on the screen. There was no oddly positioned watch at the bottom of his wrist. "I'll be there in 20."

He tapped the screen to end the call, and looked over at me with an empty stare. "I have to go."

"Y-yes…" I slowly let go of his wrist. Chief Tsurumi had called. He and Hiratsuka-sensei were married. They had taken care of Hikigaya-kun when he came back from Sri Lanka. They looked out for him. They thought of him as family. He wouldn't knowingly be pushing Hikigaya. The older man was a good man, if the union with his wife was any indication. It was alright to let go. To unfurl my fingers.

"Thank you," he said in a small voice before stepping away from us. "Sorry I'm leaving on such short notice, Yuigahama. I'll make it up to you some other time."

"N-not a problem, Hikki!" She assured, with a pathetic attempt at boisterousness. He nodded at her and walked away, following the lake side edge which would eventually lead him to the exit near the subway station. I couldn't help but compare his receding figure to a wispy ghost.

Many years later, I would learn that Chief Tsurumi had not actually called Hikigaya-kun. In fact, no call had been made at all.

He faked the entire thing.

" **Licht Meer"**

 _ ***Hikigaya Hachiman**_  
 _ ***Unknown location, Sri Lanka  
**_ _ **[4 years prior / Unknown time]**_

" _It's going to rain."_

" _But it was clear all day, Sarge. You sure?"_

 _I turned my head to look over at Danny, who had strangely decided to join my stargazing session. The sky could be seen through a small opening in the canopy of "Banyan" trees, as the locals refer to it. In Sinhalese folk religion, these trees were sacred and worshipped, so it was one of the first flora I was able to recognize at distances._

" _I'm pretty certain. The village farmers told me about some signs they use to predict weather."_

" _Yeah? Like what?" Danny took a sip from the mug that came in our mess kit. We had recently acquainted ourselves with 'artisan' coffee. By that, I mean we had come across wild coffee beans and crudely brewed some battery acid from it. Some of the villagers in our group had said that coffee wasn't native to the island, and had been planted here by the Dutch and then the British. It probably tasted like shit, but it reminded a lot of the men of home, and it revived their souls a bit. You could see it in their eyes and small smiles._

" _Well, if you had looked up at the sky during the day, you would have noticed large fluffy clouds rolling across. They didn't make the sky dark or anything, but they're common rainstorm clouds. The air got a bit chillier as the day went on, with a stronger scent of ozone too. Also, hear that?"_

 _I went silent. Danny followed my lead and ceased speaking as well. We strained our ears, listening for something from the environment around us._

" _I don't hear anything, Sarge."_

" _Exactly. No calls of danger from the animals. No sounds at all. Animals can always tell when a storm is coming way faster than humans, it's a good idea to trust them. A silent forest means something is on its way."_

" _Wow, Sarge. That's kind of amazing. Do you think it's accurate?"_

" _Accurate enough, I would assume." I shrugged. "See, we didn't always have satellite weather forecasts-"_

" _... Sarge, I'm not the smartest guy in the squad, but I'm not stupid."_

" _Let me finish, you pigeon."_

" _Sorry, Sarge."_

" _Ahem." I cleared my throat to get my thoughts back into order. "What I was trying to say was that people back then didn't have a lot to go on. The sky was their television, you could say. What else was there to look at? People over thousands of years gathered data and noticed trends with these observations. If the ideas are still around, it must mean they got something right at least. I think it's okay to trust the legacy of hundreds of generations."_

" _You started saying a lot of artsy stuff again, Sarge."_

" _... you're right. My mistake."_

 _We fell quiet once more as we watched the night sky. Beyond the occasional sound of Danny drinking his coffee or the rustling of trees in the increasingly fast winds, it was serene and silent._

 _The heavens over Sri Lanka were amazingly bright at night. Back in Japan, I hardly noticed the stars, and even if I did look up I could never see as many as what I saw now. No doubt because we were far away from any semblance of modernity, so light pollution was kept to a minimum. I had read a science magazine back in highschool that talked about this phenomena. How the light bulbs and electricity that allowed humanity to conquer the night had robbed us of this vista of the final frontier._

 _It was hard to describe what was before me as anything other than 'awe-inspiring.' Millions of glowing dots littered the night. So far away, yet making their presence known despite that massive distance. But all were easily overwhelmed by the ribbon of white that unfurled across the sky for as far as the eye could see. As if some deity had spilled countless celestial marbles across the reaches of space and created a structure in the universe filled with trillions of stars. Outside of pictures, I had never seen such a clear view of the Milky Way._

 _It really brought things into perspective. Think about it: we were on some tiny island, which was on some tiny rock that was rotating around a run-of-the-mill star like any other planet in the universe. And this just constituted one solar system among billions that resided in our spiral arm of the Milky Way galaxy. We were nothing special, or rather we should be nothing special. But if me being alive was any indication, Earth was some freak statistical outlier._

 _Was life on planet Earth just an accident? Was the reality I indulged in just a series of coincidences? Maybe. But I didn't like that answer for some reason. All this suffering had to be for something, at least. What did Lovecraft call this? Cosmic horror?_

 _What a guy..._

 _My gaze shifted upwards and scans the upper atmosphere carefully until I found the brightest star, and used it to reorient myself and my mental compass. We would be heading in that direction tomorrow. From the corner of my vision I spotted a dark blanket of clouds tumbling over the sky from the south._

" _Hey, Sarge?" Danny beckoned to me with a quiet voice. "Want a bit o' joe?"_

 _Without the moon, the night would make everything unnervingly pitch black. Thankfully it was a full moon and gave enough light to illuminate Danny's burly figure. I turned towards him and raised an eyebrow._

" _... Danny? Are you okay?"_

" _I'm fine Sarge… uh, you want a sip or not?" I could detect some undertones of uneasiness in his voice. The characteristic sound of treachery._

" _PFC." I called Danny by his rank, in a low but stern tone. A skill I had picked up through trial and error in having to keep the peace within a powder keg of 7 other men; each of whom were understandably extremely stressed out and prone to exploding over any minor conflict. "You're a terrible liar. What's in the coffee?"_

 _Danny sighed dramatically. "... some seds…."_

" _Sedatives?" I parroted incredulously. "Danny, you were going to give me a spiked drink?"_

 _Danny frowned. "When you say it like that, it sounds pretty bad."_

" _It_ _ **is**_ _bad! What the hell, Danny?" And why do you genuinely sound so confused!?_

" _Sarge. You gotta listen. Me and the rest of the guys are worried about you. You haven't slept in three days." Danny spoke with unusual seriousness, belying my concern that his moral compass had reversed when I wasn't looking. I felt guilt creep up my stomach with claws digging into the folds of the organ painfully._

" _Ok. I'll go to sleep after my watch-"_

" _Sarge." Danny interrupted me, a feat I thought he didn't have the nerve for. "You were the first one to take watch tonight. It's been three days and we burned the bridge. You need to sleep, the enemy isn't going to chase us. "_

" _..." I narrowed my eyes at him._

" _..." Danny looked back at me with a neutral expression. He could have passed for Buddha at that moment._

" _... you aren't going to go till I drink it, aren't you?" I hung my head with a sigh of resignation._

" _We're not blind, Sarge. We know you can't sleep without seds for a week after a fight. You think the Doc wouldn't notice? Drink it."_

 _Dammit, Murdoch! I thought we had a pact!?_

" _... this is mutiny. I'll have you monkeys court martialed," I said with a tinge of faux anger, taking the outstretched mug. My hands enjoyed the refreshing warmth being transferred from the drink through the metal container._

 _Danny chuckled. "If we manage to make it back, I'll let you take all of my ranks, Sarge. Hell, take my hazard pay while you're at it."_

" _Hey, if you keep telling me sweet nothings like that, I might just do so."_

 _I had managed to sleep a solid 5 hours that night. Like a zombie, I had slumbered straight through the thunderstorm that I had said would come._

 _The thunderstorm passed with little fanfare, and we were relatively safe in this camp we made on top of a hill. Other places weren't so lucky. It wasn't just humans that were affected by the civil war. The fighting had left permanent marks upon nature, and we were just now seeing the consequences._

 _Rivers were blocked off to form dams and deny the enemy access to water. This created wastelands where flora shriveled and fauna evacuated. Bombs from skirmishes had decimated trees all over the forest and was further exacerbated by the airstrikes in the name of American 'intervention.' I doubted either side cared how this destroyed nature's natural mechanism to keep soil anchored, and now any sort of rainfall would lead to mudslides that could wipe out entire villages in seconds._

 _Even the hill we were on had an avalanche of earth and rock during the storm. I had made camp among the forest so we had avoided that. It was a tactically sound decision, regardless. From the top of the hill, we could see any enemies approaching, and the mudslide just made it harder for anyone chasing to continue doing so._

 _Ingenuity. I could turn horrible natural disasters into survival strategies._

 _For all my genius, I still needed sedatives to sleep the rest of the week._

Δ▼Δ

I jerked my head up and let out a pained groan at the burning light assaulting my face. I shut my eyelids tight and batted my hands feebly at the direction it shone from like a cat. A few moments passed before I regained my bearings and realized that it was the lamp I had at my desk at the police station. I sat up and let out a yawn while stretching. Satisfying pops of the vertebrae along my spine echoed throughout the empty office. With the department having been on high alert since early this morning, the Chief had given early leave. Even Shiba had gone home.

With the office to myself, I had taken the liberty of turning off the ceiling lights and all of the lamps on the desks of my coworkers. My eyes were killing me and I still had witness testimonies to go over.

I blinked rapidly and rubbed my eyes to get rid of any traces of sleepiness. How long had I slept? My phone was left charging next to my desk phone. I tapped the screen twice and squint. It was 0001. Midnight had just passed, and the 27th of August had turned to the 28th. I couldn't have slept more than an hour at most, since I remember opening an email at around 2300ish.

Oh… I also had about 15 missed calls from Shiba, the Chief, Rumi, Shizuka combined. And one missed call from... Haruno of all people? Oh, and a few from Yukinoshita.

I lock my phone once more and turn back to the reports. I had work to do. Important work. Necessary.

Life could wait.

 **Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**

 **Author's Note:**

 **The date and timing of the next few chapters is important, so I'm going to be using those special chapter headings that let the reader know of the identity of the POV, the location, and the date. This should make the progression of the story more coherent. If it doesn't, please feel free to sound off in the review section.**

 **I had visited Yanaka only once in my few trips to Japan, but the atmosphere was entirely it's own and I tried my best to capture it in this chapter. Yukino and Yui have their own 'date' in Tokyo, and they're dancing around the issue of how strange Hachiman is acting. Our hero eventually shows up and I wanted to describe how others saw Hachiman when he was deep in work. I wanted to convey an atmosphere of worried and powerless friends and an unsettling feeling.**

" **Licht meer" means "more light" in German, and the sub-chapter title is taken from the Gundam Unicorn OST. I think this is pretty fitting, as the setting is a star-gazing session.**

 **Once more, I want to express many thanks to my friend thatguy8801. His constant support has honestly been a lifesaver through this process.**

 **-SouBU  
** **(Editors: Lord of Admirals 412; Xynovitch)**

 _Revision Log:  
_ _03/17/2020: Added a more detailed author's note._


	22. Deadmen's Wealth

**Chapter 22: "Deadmen's Wealth"**

 ** _*Hikigaya Hachiman_**  
 ** _*Tokishima Private Bank, Chiyoda Ward  
_ _[August 28th / 4:38 PM]_**

"－ so what do you think?" Hiura asked from the driver's seat.

"... huh?" I answered back with eloquence of a grade schooler caught daydreaming in class. I tore my eyes from the sight of whizzing buildings and cars as we drove along the highway.

"About what I said? What do you think?"

"I'm going to keep it real with you, Hiura," I said tiredly, leaning back further into the leather passenger seat. "I didn't listen to a thing you were saying."

Hiura chuckled. "Here I am laying my entire being bare, and this is how I'm treated?"

I grimaced at the mental image. "That sounds wrong on every conceivable level. Even figurative."

"Sorry, Hiura-san." Shiba apologized from the back seat. "Senpai hasn't slept in a while, so he's a bit cranky."

"Oi." I growled at my partner. "I took a nap last night."

"Dozing off for an hour while going over reports doesn't count. When was the last time you slept more than 4 hours in a row?"

"... I can't recall," I said after thinking about it for a moment.

Hiura glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "That's… probably not a good sign?"

I shrugged. "Hasn't killed me yet."

"It will." Shiba promised. I glared up at him through the rearview mirror. He responded back with a grin that showed off his perfect dentition. Tch.

Resisting the urge to flip him the bird, I instead huffed and looked out the window once more. Hiura's car was traveling serenely over the highway. This was pre-rush hour traffic, so things were mostly clear on the road. I reclined further into the faux-leather seat. The comfort it provided was enticing me to shut my eyes, but the prickling at the back of my head denied it. I could be tired. I acknowledged that possibility did exist.

But I'm not. No way.

"I'm being serious though, what do you think?" Hiura asked again, getting my attention once more.

"And I'm also being serious." I insisted. "I wasn't listening."

"Really? I thought you were just pretending to be an ass."

"You know me: not one to disappoint."

"Anyway, I was talking about bank accounts. The case has me thinking about whether it's a good idea to have a shared bank account or not." Hiura ignored my quip and quickly summarized what he must have said before.

"I may not have been tuning in…" I admitted shamelessly with a flourish of a hand that ended with a finger pointing behind my head. "But I'm sure this question could have been answered by Sass Master Shiba. Regardless, that seems like a problem you only have to realistically worry about once you're married."

"Come on then, it's going to happen to you eventually. You don't have any idea?" Hiura laughed. The clicking sound of the blinker could be heard in the cabin of the car as he switched lanes, taking a ramp to merge onto another highway. We traded views of the city for the coastline where fishing boats stood docked.

"What? Of course not. Thinking like that is tempting fate. Besides, I'm too attractive to get married."

"Riigghhttt." Hiura droned, his disbelief obvious. "Let's say this is a hypothetical. Would you have a shared bank account with a spouse or S.O.?"

"... I'll bite. No, I wouldn't. It's a bad idea all around."

"Praytell, why?"

"In the case of divorce there's no way to tell who bought what. She would take everything from me: house, furniture, electronics, car, and the better half of the cat."

"Half of the cat?"

"I feel like she would get the cat killed just to spite me."

"First of all, what type of spouse are you considering marrying in this hypothetical? Second, why is she pure evil incarnate?"

"Hah?" I groaned out in righteous indignation. "Think I'm wrong? Ask Shiba."

"Please don't involve me in this ludicrous conversation." Shiba responded quickly and stoically.

"See? Those are the words of someone who has seen the mouth of the beast and came back alive. Would you want to share a bank account with someone who could see each and every purchase you made, the money you spend, and could potentially just take it all? Just think about the poor cat!"

"Does trust not factor into anything in this?" Hiura asked in disbelief. "Who hurt you?"

"The world has wronged me." I declared dramatically. "If trust mattered then they'll be okay with individual bank accounts. I trust them to not be stupid with money, and I would hope they did the same. If they didn't, it doesn't sound like a healthy relationship anyway. Laying down ownership is an important facet of life. As is maintaining the life of a cat."

"Your sister stole toys from you as a kid, didn't she?"

"Like I said: wronged by the world."

"I'm confident Senpai wasn't the sharing type." My partner added in edgewise.

"Can the peanut gallery, _please_ shut up?" I groaned. "And for your information, it's only stealing if I was against it. My imouto is capable of no wrong."

"...that's some gold medal class mental gymnastics, Senpai…"

"I get it," Hiura said suddenly, grabbing both my and Shiba's attention. "We just need to get you a girl and you'll be on your way."

"Are you thick? I'm too much for any mere mortal woman. I said this. Back me up, Shiba."

I made the mistake of looking into the rear-view mirror, and caught the savage grin on Shiba's face.

"Senpai's right. It's why he only dates goddesses."

"..." My jaw hung open at the betrayal. Et tu, Shiba?

"Oh ho… so the rumors were true?" Hiura asked, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "That pretty lady－"

"No. Be quiet. I don't want to hear anything from a philanderer like you." Alas, I was besieged from all sides.

"Excuse me? What gave you that idea?"

"You got this whole tall, dark, and handsome vibe going on. Everyone just lovessss talking to you. Especially the women. What was her name again, Shiba? That girl who always sits with Hiura at lunch?"

"You mean Ookai-san?"

"What's wrong with me talking to Ookai?" Hiura asked with a frown.

"She's from Records. That's on the other side of the building. They have their own cafeteria, yet she comes to ours. Add two and two together."

"I did, and it's definitely four. There's nothing going on there. We're just friends."

"So you say. But does she think that? What's stopping her imagination from going wild?"

"Maybe the fact that she knows I'm married?"

Any sense of exhaustion I theoretically should be feeling (but absolutely did not, and even if it was possible I was tired, it was nothing a few cans MAX couldn't solve) was definitely gone now. I sat up in my seat. "You're married?"

"Yep."

"Hitched?"

"Yes."

"Ball and chain to the leg and soul?"

"Can you not refer to my wife like that?"

"... certificate and everything?"

"That's what my tax return says."

"And you… act like this?"

"What's wrong with how I act?"

"As if you're the enemy of women everywhere." I stated bluntly.

"Is it a sin to talk to other women who aren't my wife?"

"Oh no, sir. What you do goes beyond 'talking.' Stay away from my sister, you villain."

"You're doing a great job switching the conversation around on me," Hiura said, knowing grin on his face.

Shiba laughed which just egged Hiura on to laugh at me as well. Luckily we arrived at our destination soon after, allowing me to retain some dignity.

"Well." Shiba held a hand above his eyes to block out the sun. "That was an elucidating conversation about bank accounts. Let's put it to use."

Before us was a building that seemed both out of place and out of its era within Tokyo. It was decidedly Greco-Roman in design and built in brick and mortar. Stone columns were topped by impressively intricate volutes. All worked together to support triangular pediments. The roof was covered in painted sheet metal, a bright green that reminded me of oxidized copper. Dark lines and amber discolorations on the stone hinted at the building's age.

"Tokishima Private Bank's main office," Hiura said walking up. "One of the larger private banks in Japan. Let's head in, I'll do the talking."

"Be my guest." I shoved my hands into my pockets and followed the older detective. Shiba wasn't too far behind.

The entrance was pasted granite that shone in the sun, inviting us inwards. The revolving doors were heavy, being composed of brass and glass. It wasn't a hindrance, however, as a doorman pushed one of the handles, giving us access with no effort on our part. The doorman was straight out of the movies, wearing a crisp suit with red accents along with immaculate white cotton gloves. How does he keep that clean?

"We're from Tokyo Metro Police, I had called ahead of time?" Hiura asked the doorman.

I zoned out and was entranced by the interior. Vaulted ceilings were accompanied by warm sodium lamps that flooded the area in a gentle amber light. Customers were in the building. Some were sitting in plush couches or stood at the various booths talking individually to a teller. There was a relaxed ambiance to the chatter. Some employees with name tags walked directly to customers. There was not a line in sight. Everyone wore expensive clothing that fit perfectly. Fake smiles and affluence went together hand in hand, it seemed.

"This is really something else." Shiba breathed from my side. I turned my head to look at him. He was staring forward, memorizing every aspect his eyes passed over. "I can see why celebrities and the rich do their banking here."

"Politicians too." I added. "Which makes me wonder how a kid like Aoi had an account here."

"His parents were wealthy."

"They were, so why aren't we investigating their bank accounts? Something's up."

"Hikigaya! Shiba!" Hiura called out to us, walking up. "We'll be talking with the manager of this branch."

"No one else?" Shiba asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"They were the only person the bank would let us speak to." Hiura answered.

"Is the manager a woman?" I asked.

"Uh, yeah." Hiura responded, confused. "What does that have to do－"

"Fantastic. You go ahead and fraternize with her."

"W-wait! Hikigaya, where are you going?"

"On an adventure." I called over my shoulder. "Have fun."

"S-Senpai!?"

Allow me to be frank for just a moment.

Being a detective doesn't really require too many skills or intellect, contrary to popular belief. Occam's razor comes to mind. That adage that says that the simplest solution/explanation is probably the correct one. Overthinking things or trying to find patterns where there aren't any is a surefire way to be led astray from the truth of a case. When something so bizarre occurs that you can't think of any other reason why it would happen, chances are more likely than not that your gut has it right.

So when Hiura had burst into the office earlier this morning with news that Aoi's bank account had emptied itself, there were only so many things it could mean.

I walked across the marbled floor, marveling at the black and white checkerboard pattern. Each square was encased in an outline of metal. Likely bronze if the doors of the building were any indication. My footsteps echoed, melding with the soft murmuring of the various conversations and transactions around me.

I stopped at the center of the floor, and swept my gaze over all. Rich people were everywhere, the occasional chuckle or laugh at a joke said. No one made eye contact with me. Recklessly approaching anyone for a talk would be a disaster, as all these people most likely had friends in high places. I could imagine Aoi fitting right at home in this place. His neatly cut hair and prim clothing accompanied by a demeanor of nobility and－

What's this?

A new figure had stood up from his seat among a set of couches that encircled a glass coffee table. It was a man who looked to be in his mid twenties or early thirties. He said something to his group of friends… or acquaintances? Business partners? I couldn't tell, I was too far away to be able to hear what was being said. The man walked towards a desk where a teller sat. They exchanged a few words and he pulled out his wallet. It was a bifold type with a light brown color.

That's actually an extremely light brown color. It was most likely genuine leather, so it would have discolored from use. It was a new wallet. Too new for his age. No, I was probably looking too far into it. I had no idea how the rich treated their personal items. From my own end, I didn't have any experiences to draw from. I made a wallet from Doraemon patterned duct tape for my own use.

What I wasn't looking too far into was the white card that he removed from one of the folds.

I felt my eyes widen like I had woken up for the second time that day. At this distance I couldn't mistake it: the size and shape were identical to the white card in my own wallet. The teller said something to the man, who nodded, she took the white card with both hands and traded it for a solid blue card which the man took enthusiastically. The size and shape of the new card looked to be exactly the same as the white card. Not just the white card that was handed to the teller, but also the one Saito had given me.

My heart began to race at the implications. Unknowingly, I had stepped into the lion's den. And I was but a rabbit. The path did follow Aoi.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"S-sorry?"

A voice broke me out of my thoughts and I responded back reflexively. Standing to my side was a woman in sharp looking business attire. She tilted her head to the side and looked at me peculiarly.

"I apologize if I startled you," she said politely, giving me a slight bow of her head. "I had noticed you were standing here and wondered if you required assistance with anything."

"N-no… I don't…" I began, caught off guard. My brain was moving at the same speed as my heart. Experience shut down the panic as soon as it began to bubble within me. Cold logic replaced it.

Calm down. This is an opportunity.

"Sorry, I was a bit taken aback by the people. Didn't expect to see so many politicians or celebrities in one place."

The woman gave a polite little giggle. A gigglette? "Ah yes, a common occurrence for newcomers. Tokshima private bank serves large corporations and offers consulting and financial advice to individuals as well as banking services. Our customer base is one built on recommendations, and are quite scrupulously selected."

Interesting choice of words.

"I don't have a bank account here yet, but I'm assuming you guys give cards?"

"Yes, of course. Your standard fare bank cards with a magnetic strip that we use to verify credentials and allow access to financial information."

"That right? Do you happen to have any other cards? Maybe a rewards card?"

"Hmm… that is a good question." The lady thought for a second, tapping her cheek with a finger. "Not necessarily a rewards card, but we have a tiered membership system that gives benefits to members."

"... I see. That sounds like something someone would like to be part of, how does one become a tiered member?"

"Unfortunately, Tokishima Private Bank does not handle the processing of tiered membership on our end. A third-party committee handles that, as there is substantial private information that needs to be handled carefully, especially considering our clientele. Although I can send a request to have your status checked to see if you qualify."

"I- ah." I noticed Hiura walking towards me, Shiba nowhere in sight. "What's up?"

"Excuse me, I'm sorry for interrupting." Hiura apologized graciously.

"Not at all. If either of you require any assistance please do not hesitate to let me know. We pride ourselves on our customer service at Tokshima Private Bank." She gave a crisp bow at the waist and walked away.

Hiura and I traded looks.

"So what do you think?" I asked.

"A challenge methinks…" Hiura held his chin with a pondering expression. "An enigma. Clearly professional. It's going to be tough."

"We're on the same page then."

"Tough more because of the environment. Standards must be high because of the class of the clientele she deals with on a daily basis. So you need to forget about impressing her with anything other than personality. A bit small, but she has that seriousness. It's a good match for you."

"Yes, I agree- huh?" I blinked.

"What?"

"What are you talking about?"

"What are _you_ talking about?

"The case! What does my personality have anything to do with this?"

"The bank teller girl just now. She's really cute. You should go for it."

"No."

"Don't be like that! There's a bit of makeup on, but I'm sure she's pretty without it too. Solid 7 to an 8 and a half." Hiura patted me on the shoulder like an elder brother would. I quickly brushed off his arm.

"Aren't you married?"

"Ok, wow. You're being shy. Didn't think that would ever happen with you. Don't worry, I have your back."

A sense of foreboding filled me as I watched Hiura pivot on his heel.

"Wait. No. Stop. Don't harass－"

"I'll be right back."

I watched powerlessly as Hiura walked away. In just a moment, he made conversation with the woman. She smiled a few times as words were passed. Hiura pointed at me once, with her eyes following closely after. I turned around quickly, unwilling to be caught in this. Footsteps caught my attention. I saw Shiba walking down the hallway towards me.

"Senpai? Where's Hiura-san?"

"Being a bastard. Get me up to date, Hiura didn't."

"What didn't I do?" The devil-who-was-spoken-of appeared between us. Hiura handed a folded piece of paper to me, inviting a questioning gaze from Shiba.

I opened it, and immediately crushed it in my fist. "I'm going to murder you and they will never find your body."

Hiura gives a frown that wrinkles his forehead. "Hey, I'm just trying to help you out. We're friends, aren't we?" He sounded genuinely hurt.

"We're not. And stay away from my sister. And Shiba's sister."

"I don't have a sister, Senpai."

"Wow." Hiura whistled at my blunt words. "You're a tsundere too? Explains a lot."

I feel my face heat up as Shiba slapped a hand over his mouth in a futile attempt to contain his laughter.

"Pick a god and pray," I said with a feral tone. [1]

"L-let's not do this here…" Shiba stuttered, stepping between us.

I gave Hiura a withering glare. Hiura was unfazed, and just shot me a cocky smile. Damn riajuus. He's like a semi-less handsome Hayama Hayato who happened to finally develop a personality. Unfortunately it was one that revolved around wit.

"So what did we learn?" I sighed, looking upward and closing my eyes. My fingers massaged the bridge of my nose to try and alleviate the pressure behind my eyes. My question changed the atmosphere around us instantly.

"Not much." Hiura admitted, his voice taking on a blunt edge. "Aoi's account emptied a minute after midnight passed."

"Essentially after all transactions were processed." Shiba added. "The strange part was how it wasn't strange."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"The transaction requests for wired money were internationally ordered. From Switzerland. But they were pre-approved two years in advance. So it passed all safety checks and verifications."

"Someone had access beyond Aoi… or in spite of him." I concluded.

"There's someone else involved, clearly," Hiura said. "But these requests can't be traced. Banking system requests are encrypted for security reasons. Manager says that a computer or a set of them are probably involved. The number of transactions to get the money from Aoi's account numbered in the millions."

"... come again?" I was gobsmacked.

"That's what I said. Manager reckons that an AI was most likely used to funnel the money. Since the transaction sources were pre-approved there's nothing that they can do but alert us after everything was moved."

"We can assume that the money is being directly wired between accounts all over the world at this stage. They're trying to cover their tracks. The digital footprints are beyond us, they'll move the money faster than we can trace it." Shiba looked down at his notepad and circled something.

"Two steps forward… one step back." I sighed once more. "Logical conclusions are… there's something or someone involved for a while who is behind this. They have resources internationally."

Shiba looked up at me suddenly from his notepad. "Wait. Aren't we also investigating money laundering?"

My eyes widened and Hiura's mouth opened and closed, speechless.

"Shit."

We all fell silent.

"We're going to have let the Chief know," Hiura said while shrugging. "This is beyond the TMPD. It's the PSIA's problem now."

"Normally, I'd be all for throwing work on someone else, but this seems… inconvenient." My words got me a sympathetic glance from Shiba.

"There's not much more we can do on our end. Let's get these testimonies back to HQ. The money laundering task force should get this info as well. Poor guys, they'll be soul crushed. AI controlled money transfers out of the country to overseas accounts? Yikes." Hiura said as he walked away.

I threw out the piece of paper with the phone number on it in a waste bin near the entrance. I turned back to look once more into the opulent bank, etching it into my memory.

The few moments I had taken to do so had separated me from Shiba and Hiura. Hiura's car had been started and was idling with the owner in the driver's seat. I walked up and pulled on the passenger's side door. It was locked.

"It's locked." I noted.

Shiba rolled down the window, making me realize that he was sitting there. "Yes. It is locked."

"No shit, Sherlock." I exhaled. "Alright, I get it. I'll do backseat." I shifted over and tried pulling the second door to no avail. "What gives? I'm not in the mood for jokes right now."

Shiba rolled up the window and looked at Hiura. They exchanged some words in a conversation I couldn't hear despite my ears being centimeters away. Hiura nodded once and Shiba took a visibly deep breath before he lowered the glass between us once more.

"You live near here, don't you Senpai?"

"Yeah, like twenty minutes away with the subway. What does that－." It all clicked in my head. I narrowed my eyes at my coworkers. "So that's what you're playing at?"

"Senpai, you need to go home and sleep. The Chief's worried about you, and so are we."

"This was premeditated!" I accused, pointing at Hiura and Shiba. "This is mutiny! Betrayal! I'll have you two in cuffs!"

Shiba's eyes flashed in annoyance and he opened his mouth to say something before a new voice interrupted him.

"Hikigaya-san?"

My head turned towards the source. A man stood next to a long black car, a Rolls Royce if the ornament that adorned its hood was any indication. [2] He wore a perfectly pressed black suit with neatly combed hair that had flecks of gray to give an indication of his age. Not someone old per se, just someone more… experienced. What caught me most was the familiar blue eyes.

Oh shit.

"Yukinoshita...san…."

Yukinoshita Yoshirou. Currently a Diet member representing Chiba, with ambitions of running for Prime Minister. Owner and former CEO of one of the largest construction firms in all of Japan. Also the father of a certain district attorney and lawyer pair of sisters. And here he was, looking at me with a smile on his face, as if he was meeting with a friend he hadn't seen in a long time.

"Ah, I thought that was you, Detective Hikigaya!" Yukinoshita-san said jovially. "What a coincidence meeting you here!"

"I- uh- yeah… I mean yes!" I stammered. The charisma the man was exuding shot fear up my spine. He stepped forward and offered me a hand which I gingerly took. He shook my hand with vigor and a smile.

"What are you doing here?"

"We were- um- investigating something… at the bank." My tongue suddenly lost all grace in the presence of a higher being.

"Oh? And you're done? If you have the time, why don't you join me for some tea?"

I was ready to politely decline, but I had forgotten all about Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum in the car next to me.

"Perfect timing. Why don't you go and grab something to eat, Senpai?" Tweedle-Shiba suggested.

"Yeah! We'll punch out for you, no worries." Tweedle-Hiura assured.

Shiba brought up the window for the last time and the car drove off. They made off like bandits, with the tires squealing slightly as the car turned onto the street.

I sighed.

 **Chapter 22.33333...: "The Big Kahuna"**

 ** _*Hikigaya Hachiman_**  
 ** _*The Peninsula Hotel Cafe, Chiyoda Ward  
_ _[August 28th / 5:12 PM]_**

I traded one high class venue for another. I was seated on an exquisite leather chair in an expensive cafe that was within an equally expensive hotel. The silk curtains to my left spoke to some deep and instinctual part of my being that whispered in my mind. It told me I didn't belong here.

Yeah, Subconscious-gaya-kun. I think so too.

"Good afternoon, Yukinoshita-san. It's a pleasure to have you in our establishment again. Have you decided on your orders?" A waiter stood to the side of our table with a pad and pen. He wore a black vest and white shirt with legs covered by a white apron. Actually, isn't calling him a waiter sort of a disservice? Maybe a garçon? God, that sounds so pretentious.

"Hello again, Kino-kun." Yukinoshita-san greeted the garçon (bleh) with a smile and warmth one would reserve for a close friend. "And yes, I think we're ready. Can my friend and I have some green tea along with a set of the variety mochi to share?"

"Very good, Yukinoshita-san." The garçon (waiter?) jotted it down before turning towards me. "And for you, sir?"

I blinked. "Uhhhh… that's good enough to start?" I winced as my voice intonated upwards at the end, making it sound like a question. The waiter (garçon?) nodded and walked away, telling us he would be back shortly.

"This place makes delectable confectionaries. The sakura mochi is to die for. Oh, don't tell my wife! I'm supposed to be on a diet!" Yukinoshita-san gave me a charismatic wink that fit perfectly with his hundred-thousand yen smile.

"I-I see." How the hell was I supposed to respond to that? He was talking to me as if we were confidants. The worst part was that I was starting to believe we were. My fingers fiddled with the glass cup that held water and ice cubes.

"So tell me, Hikigaya-san. What has Tokishima Private Bank done to catch the watchful gaze of the police?" Yukinoshita-san flipped through the complimentary newspaper that was handed to him as we had entered the restaurant.

"... they just alerted us to a potential crime that occurred. We're not investigating them, exactly. I can't really say any more."

Good. Nice. Okay. I was still capable of coherent speech.

"Ah I see, I see! I was worried that the bank was in some trouble. Good to know I can stop on that end. They've financed some of my more ambitious ventures back when I was younger." The politician before me gave a hearty laugh. "I will say though, I am glad to see the younger generation so hard at work. Why, I never imagined you would become such a person when we first met."

Was that supposed to be an insult? Or a compliment?

My lack of a response didn't seem to bother Yukinoshita-san, who continued talking. "I heard you stopped by my home recently. I hope my wife and daughters showed you adequate hospitality?"

"O-of course!" I replied nervously. "It was... er... enjoyable."

He nodded in satisfaction. "Very good. My wife wishes to treat you to a proper meal, you must stop by again in the near future."

"Things are a bit busy right now with the police force… I'll keep that in mind."

"Of course, of course." Yukinoshita-san assured me with a smile. "Your job comes first, especially considering the importance of law-enforcers. Although speaking of dinner, my youngest seems to be around for supper less and less as of late. Are you the culprit?"

I saw the predatory glint in his eyes, which had me break out in a cold sweat.

"N-no!" I quickly denied, my mind quickly trying to search for a proper response that wouldn't have me killed. "There's been a few reunions lately. Old classmates and meeting Hiratsuka-sensei and all."

"Hiratsuka? Ah, the teacher from Soubu. Very good. I'm glad to see that Yukino is keeping in touch with her friends. True companions will always remain with you, no matter the time nor distance."

"Y-yes." I was a bit more than a little guilty at that last one.

"I won't hand my daughter over to you."

"E-excuse me?"

I'm dead. Komachi, I'm sor－

"Sorry, I'm just kidding. Wanted to try saying that for once."

I gave a weak laugh to the beaming smile on the face of the father of one of my oldest friends who was also one of the most powerful individuals in the country. The juxtaposition had me feeling faint.

"I am curious, if I remember correctly Hiratsuka-sensei had her last year at Chiba during your second year. I heard from Haruno that she was married?"

"Yes, she was. To Tsurumi Kenji, the Police Chief at the Tokyo Police Department." I gave a measured response.

"Ahhhh, well congratulations and well wishes to her. I hear he is an upstanding man."

Before I could agree with him, our waiter (garçon?) came with two platters balanced gracefully on either hand. He placed both down, saucers with cups of green tea placed neatly before us and a small platter of pastel colored orbs between us.

Yukinoshita-san quickly reached forward and plucked a pink mochi with his fingers and ate with a small sound of satisfaction. I was momentarily shocked by the lack of table manners. This seemed like something I would only see the younger Yukinoshita do on her deathbed.

"Delicious as always," Yukinoshita-san said. "You know, I have become quite familiar with the Tsurumis as of late. I have had multiple meetings with the elder brother, Lieutenant Colonel Tsurumi Kenta to discuss matters with the military between Diet meetings."

My hand that was reaching for the chopsticks to my side stopped. The Captain met with Yukinoshita's dad? The CO was in Tokyo? Hold on, _Lieutenant Colonel_!? I didn't hear about any of this!

"Erm… uh…" My lips flapped intelligently , while I tried to process the information that was dumped on me.

"He's quite the knowledgeable man. And very honest as well." Yukinoshita-san informed, finishing off the mochi he was working on before reaching for another. "The Diet recently approved monetary investment to expand the Public Security and Intelligence Agency in the wake of the recent terrorist attack.

"The hostage situation at the Fillipino Embassy has everyone in an uproar. I felt it was necessary to talk to an expert to see what more we can do to avoid such situations in the future. The Colonel was very forthcoming with advice, although it does upset me that money is being diverted away from social programs for this."

He sighed with a defeated smile. "Another bill is in the works, pushed by the Conservatives and the hawks. They want to approve stronger arms for security forces within our country. Such as giving submachine guns and assault rifles to the police force. Concerns are rising about such a plan, as our immigration policies are also in flux. We still have refugee's lining our borders, and we may well be adding fuel to the fire."

"I…."

"To top it all off, they want to divert funds away from the immigration of those poor refugees to start development of a new service pistol and begin mass production within two years. It's like they imagine that money grows on trees. Our economy can't handle all of this. We need a workforce as soon as possible."

"..."

Yukinoshita-san closed his mouth before giving me a sheepish smile. "I apologize. I've been sitting through these Diet meetings and it has not been pleasant with all this talk about war and violence."

"I… understand," I said slowly. "There's a need to get it off the chest."

"Exactly! You are truly an understanding individual. If only we had more of your kind of person within the government, things would surely improve for the better."

"You're overselling me a bit there."

A chuckle from the senator made it clear he thought I was joking.

"Is that so? Still, I wish to know the perspective of a law-enforcer such as yourself. What do you think of the steps Japan is taking?"

My mouth dried at the question. My opinion? Why did my opinion matter? Was I some sort of representative for the police force in his eyes? I shivered, perturbed by the thought train. My thoughts were worthless, Sri Lanka made that clear. Please stop. This responsibility is too much. Don't place so much import on a failure like me.

"I worry about the future of Japan." Yukinoshita-san continued, not waiting for me to say anything. Ah, okay. It was a rhetorical question. He was still venting. Good. "My family lives here. My ancestors lived here. We have so much to look back on, both good and bad. I can't shake the feeling that our current path is a mistake."

"Violence begets more violence," I said. "People don't like being put in danger. Guns pointed in one direction tend to attract more guns in return."

"Yes! That's my thinking exactly!" Yukinoshita-san said with a pleased smile. "We all want to build a safer Japan, but this road we are taking seems… counterintuitive. But I will do my part to make my dream a reality. And I have to thank you for helping me do so, Hikigaya-san."

"H-huh? I didn't do anything."

"Did you not become a detective? And before that, did you not serve as a member of our armed forces?"

"... that wasn't…"

"Hikigaya-san." Yukinoshita-san's voice dropped to a gentle tone. A fatherly one. "Humility is a good trait, but all things must be in moderation. Too much humility frustrates those that hear it. You have chosen a career path that you should be proud of. Putting your own safety on the line so that others may sleep in peace. How many mothers can send their children to school without fear? How many civilians do not worry about the future because you ensure that it will be safe? You help keep the peace. If I was to be honest, you're doing more than me in building that peaceful Japan."

I couldn't find the words anywhere. He was overselling it. He was just... I was not the person he was describing. Nobility was not a factor in my actions… it was…

Yukinoshita-san was simply wrong. The fact that Japan was becoming more militant was proof. I did what I did because I was trying to run away from that Jungle. A futile effort, as this conversation had made me realize. I can't run away from the Jungle because the Jungle was everywhere now. Spreading across the world like the most virulent of tropical diseases that threw the world and the people in it into fevers and frenzies.

"I…"

"You are an amazing person, Detective. You saved my daughters, both of them. I can't thank you enough, yet you go and do more. Truly selfless. We need more men and women of your caliber and fortitude in the world."

My mouth went dry, and I was suddenly aware of a stone that was stuck in the middle of my throat. I did not like where this conversation was going.

"Detective Hikigaya, you are a hero. You are the type of person this country desperately needs."

Hero.

A hero.

He just called me a….

Probably interpreting my silence as embarrassment, Yukinoshita gave me a wry smile. "I'm sure my daughters think the same. My wife as well. You are a hero to us, and surely to all those you have helped."

Yukinoshita… thought I was a hero? No. No way. She knows me… knows me better than that. I'm not a…

I _couldn't_ be.

No.

 _I shouldn't be._

A person like me wasn't a hero. In fact, heroes died because of people like me.

"...thank you…" Swallowing everything and my despair, I lied with the straightest face I could muster.

I finished the tea and waved away Yukinoshita-san who offered me some of the mochi. I was forced to have one of the matcha ones at the end. The older man refused to let me pay for my part of the bill, footing the entire thing. He even offered to drive me home, but I had managed to turn him down.

"Have a good evening, Detective Hikigaya. Consider this an official invitation to have dinner with us in the near future, we would love to have you."

"I'll keep that in mind."

He offered a hand, which I took reluctantly. Yukinoshita-san's hand felt like fire. Or was that because my own hand felt like ice?

"Please continue the good work." He said.

Continue? How could I continue something that never started?

 **Chapter 22.666666...: "Don't Forget"**

 ** _*Hikigaya Hachiman_**  
 ** _*Apartment, Shibuya  
_ _[August 28th / 10:10 PM ]_**

It was evening. Evening meant dinner.

I was trying to eat a late meal made of leftovers from someday that I couldn't recall. My chopsticks were held between the fingers of my right hand while my left hand sat idly by the bowl of rice. I don't think I even microwaved the rice. I had just shoved it out of a tub that I had kept in the refrigerator. I stared at the cold white grains, hoping that it would stimulate even a little bit of my appetite. But my stomach had turned to stone at some point.

The clock in the living room ticked rhythmically, each movement echoing throughout the room.

⸢ _There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house, and the March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it.⸥_

"..."

⸢ _A Dormouse was sitting between them, fast asleep, and the other two were using it as a cushion, resting their elbows on it, and talking over its head.⸥_

"..." I said nothing, and slowly put my chopsticks down by the side of the bowl. A slow swell of nausea assaulted me, threatening to become a tidal wave in a few moments time.

⸢" _Very uncomfortable for the Dormouse," thought Alice; "only, as it's asleep, I suppose it doesn't mind."⸥_

The voice stopped speaking, and hummed in contemplation. "Yes, I would say it doesn't mind. Do you? Mr. Dormouse?"

My head throbbed once more and I forced myself to open my eyes. I was at my usual seat at the foot of the table, but the chair to my right was occupied. There sat a young man in a bright orange hoodie with a single white patch on his left breast. Long and thin effeminate fingers held a small leather-bound book with no title. He sported a Cheshire grin, which seemed utterly out of place when considering that he had a hole in the center of his head from which a single drop of blood trailed down over his nose.

"Is there really a need to recite back _Alice in Wonderland?_ " My voice was scratchy and rough. I almost sounded like I was begging.

"Poor, Mr. Dormouse. Poor, poor, Mr. Dormouse." Ouma Daichi cooed mockingly at me. "Suffering so clearly and so obviously, yet a condition so natural that others can't help but assume you're not bothered."

"... it's fine." I growled.

My answer seemed to stun Ouma momentarily before he leaned back in his chair howling in laughter like a madman. "Ah! You are far too entertaining, Detective Hikigaya! Too much! Has anyone told you that you are intriguing to the highest degree?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Tsk, tsk." Ouma waved a finger and clicked his tongue at me in disappointment. "Let's not engage in this song and dance, Detective. Convincing oneself of a lie may be an impressive skill, but like Cinderella, the magic must eventually fade. Come face reality with me."

How dare he.

"I have been facing reality. All this time. I had to."

"Come now. You don't believe that yourself, do you? Afterall, if a problem is never acknowledged it can never be a problem, yes? Life is all sunshine and rainbows when you simply refuse to see the thunderstorms and wildfires."

"It doesn't need to be that nice. I'm fine with what's here right now."

"Curious… you pride yourself on facing reality yet you seem to be forgetting the past. Where have we heard this before? Surviving in a hell because 'I'm fine'? Bravo! Bravo, Detective! You live in a fantastical world built from the convenient oversights of reality. This is so contradictory to who you are, I believe we will need to add a third 'H' to your name. For 'hypocrite.'"

"..."

"A boy bullied and ostracized in his youth, just wanting to help people because he loved how it made him feel. To be needed, to be appreciated, all the warm things a child would need. But you received none."

"... people are horrible creatures, I learned at that age."

"Yet, you still craved the compliments. You still felt that nice fuzzy feeling deep inside, even if the people around could not stand to look at you. And you hated yourself for it."

"..." I clenched my right hand, and was met with the sound of my knuckles popping.

"It is perfectly reasonable, Hikigaya. To want to be close to others is perfectly human, but the one issue with your methodology… was you."

"..."

"You did not know how to get close to others. You were afraid of the rejection, yet you desired that feeling of altruism. That tiny burst of ecstasy that you get when you have done something to give your existence value. So you helped others hoping for that self-assurance. You thought that no matter how much you hurt yourself, you could always stand up and convince yourself that you had become something more. Hilarious!"

Cue another round of laughter that resembled a hyena and was accentuated with wheezing.

"How far we have fallen. You probably sit back sometimes and wonder how things have gotten here. The need to help others in high school evolves into a disease where you must save others. You still hate that you're here."

"I had… broken a promise." I breathed out. "I forgot a lesson I thought I learned."

"Self-blame? Aww, enough with the delusions, Detective! You did not forget the lesson, you realized how flawed it was in the jungles of Sri Lanka. Don't tell me you forgot about Mina? Small little lass, perhaps a meter in height. She was great at tying baskets, and she even tried to teach you! Oh how time flies, I wonder if her body is still where you left it… Hmm, on second thought, it's probably been eaten by vultures or other animals by now. A shame."

"What do you want with me?"

Ouma blinked owlishly. "Me? Detective, I am here _because_ of _you_. I should be asking _you_ what _you_ want. I can't tell you how or why you survived that jungle, but I can tell you that happiness is a fleeting thing. So what do you want? Catharsis? Nirvana? Enlightenment? A raison d'être?" [3]

"..."

"You exist purely to help others. The entire basis of your being was born from it, and was molded by it. But you know not all can be saved, so you avert your eyes to the ones outside of your purview, and compromise to save the one you can. A _true_ lesson, hard-won in that year. Even now, this job that you do and the cases that you take, it is not what you tell yourself. You know, that deep down inside, you are doing this for yourself. You do not actually care about the others, you just want to feel good."

"No… I…."

"Face the music, my dear friend." Ouma leaned back in his seat, now suddenly holding my copy of _The Conquest of Happiness_. "Lets see… Chapter 16: 'Effort and Resignation.' Ah, here we are: 'Truth however, is not always interesting, and many things are believed because they are interesting. The uninteresting doctrine in many cases, is the truth.' "

"Interest means little to me, that's a fact. You know this."

"Is that right? Interest can also mean desire, you know?"

"... desire?"

"A teenager who perhaps found the one thing in his life that gave him meaning without his own perception. You treasured it like a fragile candle, and when the flames nipped at your hands you were suddenly protected by those around you. Like a fairy-tale. But all good things come to an end and when that source was to leave, you panicked. You suddenly realized what you had done, what weaknesses you had allowed to develop. How that 'good feeling' was now with someone else rather than a construct within your own mind."

"I just wanted… the best… for all."

"'All?'" Ouma scoffed. "What about you?"

"Why do I matter? I don't deserve to matter."

"Yes. Yes, you do not. You made the decisions. You brought this upon yourself. Can you still look that man in the face?"

"..."

"It is rather romantic, really. A young boy who let himself fall to weakness and selfishness and was coming crashing down finds himself face to face with a man so much greater than he could have imagined."

"... stop. He wasn't like that. I never push expectations onto people."

"Whoever said anything about expectations? This man was exactly as you saw. This is not simple idolatry, it is far more visceral. It is hot-blooded hero-worship. After all, you saw this man for what he was. You saw him stand in the face of soul crushing adversity and tragedy with unflinching strength. He dedicated his life to helping others and he found solace in that. It is obvious, really. He was all that you ever wanted to be. You wanted to be like him."

"..."

"Rather than pushing expectations on other people, you did the opposite. You pushed expectations upon yourself. Hope. A hope, that perhaps you could be just like him if you found that something like he did. And so you followed down his path without a second thought. A path that led you straight to the military."

"He…"

"... it was in your moment of weakness when all was crashing down that he gave you guidance inadvertently. And now you're wondering why things turned out this way."

"Oh.…"

"I see you understand now. Hikigaya, you are the cause. You could not just shoulder a little sliver unhappiness. The miniscule taste of that bliss was too strong to let go. Pathetic."

"..."

"You lived while others died. There is no answer. No reasoning. Accept it. You know what you have to do."

"... give this life some meaning. Justify my existence."

"Exactly. Or else why keep living? " Ouma gave me a smile. "Don't forget about me, promise?"

"Never."

Δ▼Δ

My eyes suddenly fluttered open and my flank throbbed painfully. I was dazed, but recognized the hardwood floor beneath me. The chair I had been sitting on tumbled over and laid on its side. My abdomen ached and I noticed my bowl of rice also on the floor, the contents littering about like little specks of paint.

I must have fallen out of my chair. I rolled over onto my back, ignoring the bursts of agony. The wall clock said it was 2:33AM on August 29th.

"Fuck me…"

At least it couldn't get worse.

"Hachiman!"

… me and my big mouth.

There was another presence in the room. I turned my head to see Shizuka looking at me with a look of horror on her face. The plastic bag she held in her hands slipped and fell to the floor.

"Oh… hey there… uhh… this isn't the worst thing you've seen me do?" I joked awkwardly.

Shizuka rushed over to my side and knelt. "What happened!? Are you alright? Can you sit up?"

I grunted as she helped me sit up. "Nothing major… I think I fell asleep while I was eating dinner."

"Din－" Shizuka's words stopped as she looked over at the floor and the debris I dropped. "There's only rice! And you dropped from sitting on a chair!"

I coughed. "I can't cook, you know that. And I'm not the most coordinated individual, no need to stick it to me."

Shizuka's face was grim, my poor attempt at wit not having gone over well. "Rumi said she was going to stop by and make dinner for you tonight!"

"Oh… I think I got home pretty late." Silly Hachiman, how could you?

"... you're avoiding her Hachiman. You knew what time she comes over. I know that you knew this."

Dammit, seen right through. But the captain goes down with their ship… of lies.

"No idea what you're talking about."

"Kenji said you're doing it again. You're collapsing in on yourself. Hachiman, please..."

"... it's a pretty major case." I murmured, looking away in guilt.

"Is that why Haruno said you were avoiding her and Yukinoshita too?"

I resisted the urge to curl into a ball and pretend I wasn't hearing any of this.

"I don't know what's worse." Shizuka sighed. "For a second I was afraid that I had to break a teenager's heart. I thought that maybe you decided to start something with Yukinoshita so you were avoiding Rumi, but then you didn't talk to her either. And instead I find you keeled over on the floor... I thought you were dead."

"Sorry.…"

"'Sorry' doesn't cut it mister." She rebuked me softly, fingers wiping premature tears from her eyes before her hand came up to rest on my forehead and get a feel for my temperature. Her fingers were warm to the touch, filled with life.

"Just… okay, fine. I'm tired." I admitted. "Let me go to sleep and I'll be right as rain tomorrow."

"Nice try." Shizuka pulled me up and shoved me into my room where she pulled out a coat from my dresser and threw it over my shoulders like a makeshift blanket.

"Wha－!" I tried to protest, but the married woman threw me a glare that stifled any rebellion my brain was concocting.

"You're coming to our house." She quickly shook her head, realizing the ambiguity in her words. "No, you're STAYING at our house until further notice."

"I can't do that!"

"Overruled. You go to work from our house, you come back from work to our house. You live there, you sleep there, you eat there, you piss there. You STAY there. You STAY with US. Understand?"

"... yes, ma'am."

"Good. Now pack your things. I'll let your mother and Komachi know about this."

A bit of warmth ignited within me, but I thought I heard something whisper to me from the back of my head.

 _Hikigaya, you are the cause._

 _You could not just suck up a little unhappiness._

 _That little taste of that bliss was too strong to let go._

 _Pathetic._

I looked over at Shizuka as she neatly folded my dress shirts for work. Was this also part of that little bliss I was now addicted to? Could I protect it if it meant letting it go? Could I let it go?

I just didn't know anymore. But I knew I couldn't lose sight of it. I wasn't allowed to leave it behind.

 _Don't forget about me, promise?_

I let out a shaky breath.

"Never."

 **Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**

References:

[1] A reference to Fire Emblem Awakening. Fredrick's critical hit dialogue is "Pick a god and pray." Man is an absolute unit.

[2] Rolls Royce's have a signature little statue on its hood called the Spirit of Ecstasy. It can cost up to $15,000 to replace it.

[3] "Raison d'être" is a French expression that means "reason for being." Meant to describe one's purpose in life or why they keep living.

 **Author's Note:**

 **We return back to the crime plot in earnest, with a new discovery increasing the scale of the whole mystery. Implications of things to come start to trickle down to our heroes, and they're not pleased. I enjoyed writing the banter at the start, as it felt like a breath of fresh air simply just giving some life and personality to these characters as people beyond plot mechanic/delivery service.**

 **Yukinoshita's father makes an appearance and actually has speaking lines. A few of them, in fact. It was hard to try and decide how to write a career politician who helped build the construction dynasty (there is a backstory to that I'll reveal in a later chapter). In the end I settled on: "extremely charismatic, but off putting in their mannerisms." How well did this come across? Let me know. There's some more world building that explains the situation in Japan as a whole.**

 **The last two scenes were very difficult to compose. I want to make things clear that Hachiman has no supernatural power, he's just hallucinating. The ghost of Ouma is a mental demon, or in other words is a projection of his subconscious. This is important because the distinction is that this isn't actually Ouma's departed soul, but Hachiman's perception of who he thought Ouma was.**

 **The realization was made that there was a severe lack of best-girl so I added in some Shizuka parts. I think it came out well and it expresses how much care Shizuka has for him, one of the few strong-armed matron figures in his life.**

 **My last note is that if you wish to keep up to date with the status of writing, I'm mostly active on SpaceBattles. You can find me easily by googling 'Unmade' and 'SpaceBattles.' I would post the link on my profile, but links are currently broken so I'm not touching that.**

 **-SouBU**  
 **(Editors: Lord of Admirals; Xynovitch)**

 _Revision Log:  
_ _03/17/2020: Extended author's note._


	23. Jungle Flower

**Chapter 23: "Jungle Flower"**

 _ **Chapter 23.1:**_ **"Absentee Regrets"**

 _ ***? ?**_

 _ **[August 30th / 7:02 AM]**_

 _[Main menu]_

 _[You have… ONE... new voice message. To play press—]_

 _[... playing message now.]_

 _[August 28th, 2PM]_

" _Hello? Hachiman?_

 _It's uh… it's your father… then again you could probably tell from my voice…_

 _A-anyway! Just calling in to check up on you. It's been quite awhile since we last saw you. Your mother's started worrying herself sick about how well you've been eating. Again._

 _So… I… uh…_

…

…

 _Um. How's work going? Your Sensei had called a few nights ago, told us that you were on a major case. Just, uh, make sure to stay safe. Actually, do we still call her that? What's the proper…?_

 _Uhhhhh… K-Komachi misses you… and I don't want her to be sad. Your mother and sister would feel a lot better if you stopped by Chiba, maybe stayed a night…_

 _I guess I'll just… hang up…_

…

…

 _Like… right now…_

…

…

 _Ah, geez… what am I even doing?_

…

…

 _You know more than most… that lots of things have happened…_

 _Sometimes I can't even tell where it all started and where it all ended. If this is even the end._

 _Who knows?_

 _It's all a mess and I…_

…

…

 _I know… I know I wasn't always there for you._

 _Maybe if I was at home a little more._

 _Maybe if I talked to you a little more._

 _Now here I am. Having told you when you were a kid that 'to work is to lose' , and yet ironically, I'm glad that you have a job to keep you busy. It's a basis I'm thankful for._

 _Which is a horrible thing, I'm sitting here being useless while you're dealing with all that alone._

 _I can't believe I'm happy that a job gives you more stability than a family could…_

 _I…_

…

 _..._

 _Maybe things could have been different if I stayed around. You grew up so fast, I thought you were fine. I probably hoped you were fine. When you told me what you wanted to do after high school, I thought you were fine._

 _W-why didn't I just… I didn't even say anything…._

 _I can't believe I just let it happen. Things were okay… And then when things weren't, I wondered where all that time went…_

…

 _I…_

…

 _I know I didn't say this enough… and I know I still don't say this enough… But I'm proud of you, son. I'm just sorry that I couldn't do anything to make you proud of me…_

 _I'll be stopping by Tokyo soon._

 _[...]_

 _[End of final message.]_

 _[To DELETE message press 7. To—]_

…

 _[Message saved to archive.]_

 **Chapter 23.2: "Strung Along to Shun"**

 _ ***Morimi Emiko  
*Kasumigaseki, Chiyoda Ward  
**_ _ **[August 30th / 4:55 PM]**_

 _What am I doing?_

I often asked myself that question. My mother always said it was because I was young, dumb, and aimless. I don't exactly know what she meant, but I'm assuming it's something along the lines of 'not knowing what I want, so I'm never completely satisfied.'

I can't really disagree with this. I had no goal in life to work towards. There was nothing to look forward to nor struggle for. I was a ship without a sail; an explorer without a compass. That was how I felt. Something just there but with nothing in my hands.

And I became even more lost when Hikigaya came up to me a few days ago. His glasses were nowhere to be seen on his face, and his signature unkempt hair made a comeback. A tie had been sloppily thrown around his neck and his face looked like it shrunk. Hikigaya was more like a wild animal than a detective, with eyes focused and intensely exuding an aura of gravitas and instability. But I recognized this Hikigaya. This was the one I had met and had seen work for years on end. Rather than feral beast, the detective felt more like a large hound dog.

What should have been the usual interaction (even more usual maybe) was prevented as soon as he opened his mouth and asked for the strangest request.

" _If anyone other than some TMPD personnel asks for me, tell them I'm not here. And I mean,_ anyone _."_

" _What? Why?"_

" _I'm… busy with a case. I need time… and no distractions. No roadblocks. No chains. Nothing."_

 _The way he bitterly said those words stirred the melting pot of emotions within me._

" _O-okay." I assented._

The old him was coming back with a vengeance, and I hated how relieved I felt. He had become an entirely different person these past few weeks and months. _That_ was a Hikigaya I barely knew at all.

The stories that Haruno-san had told me made me realize that he had a rich life filled with people, events, and memories I couldn't even begin to imagine. And everybody knows that if you don't know a person's past, how can you say that you understand them?

But he left that behind, didn't he?

I only knew Detective Hikigaya. Hikigaya Hachiman, on the other hand, was always an enigma, but that didn't scare me for some reason. The two were inseparable in my mind. I mean, the way he worked made it seem like his job was his life. Anyone with a brain could tell that this was only going to end badly for both of us if I kept at it. So I threw away the feelings I had for him.

 _I mean, that was him THEN._

 _This is who he is NOW._

 _They are different and may as well be two separate people!_

At least I thought I did, anyway. But probably, deep inside, I still hoped there was a chance. Which is why I questioned myself now, at this very moment, because _she_ had come back today.

And by _she_ , I mean the younger sister of Haruno-san.

Her entrance into the foyer of the building was like something straight out of a movie. She pushed the door open and stepped inside with the poise of a ballroom dancer. The summer heat didn't seem to have affected her at all. While us normal humans were slick with sweat and huffing due to the scorching temperatures and thick air, she was unfettered. Crisp grey suit and skirt with low heels combined with her beautiful appearance made for a flawless example of the human species.

I normally would be irritated at the sight, since it was objectively unfair that she could be that perfect in the looks department in seemingly any and all circumstances. But instead, a sense of dread crawled up the back of my throat.

Haruno-san's sister walked up to the information desk briskly and spoke in a clear tone.

"Is Detective Hikigaya Hachiman in?" She spoke with a voice that was pleasing to the ears. Like a dainty bell or a smooth melody played on the koto. [1]

My breath hitched.

He was.

Hikigaya hadn't left the office to go home the night before. He had gone out earlier this morning, but had returned with Shiba in tow just thirty minutes ago. The two were probably at their department office on the third floor right now. A single call from the phone that sat to the right of my hand was all it would take to reach Hikigaya or get to someone who could.

Breathing didn't get any easier. Hikigaya seemed happier of late, and it was due in part to her. Or at least due to her appearing before him again after so long. His regression from that was alarming, and unhealthy. The right thing to do would be to ignore his request and just get her over to him.

 _So why did I hesitate?_

"I'm sorry." I said slowly serving a smile that physically hurt my cheeks and agonized my soul. "He's not in right now. It is past normal working hours so he may have gone home. Do you want to leave a message for when he returns?"

 _You knew him THEN. You don't know who he is NOW. But I do. I've watched him toil and suffer for something that meant more to him than his own happiness. I know the Hikigaya of the NOW better than you ever could._

 _Were you here to see Hikigaya take pedicide case after pedicide case? Did you know that he couldn't look any young girl in the face, even of the ones he saved that came to thank him? Did you and everyone else from his past ever ask why he would mash his food with a fork? Did they know it was because he had trouble chewing?_

 _Did they know how he would sometimes punch out of work so Shiba would punch out too? Or sometimes he would punch out and still keep working so that the Chief wouldn't get into trouble with payroll? Did they know that he would never keep his eyes straight, and always would be straining to get a look at everything? Did they know that he would never take credit for a case if someone else was on it first?_

 _If you all did know, why would you leave him like this?_

 _All of what you don't know makes up who Hikigaya is now. You don't—_

Against all preconceptions, the impossible happened. This woman, who was honestly more a doll than anything else, cracked. It was slight, but the observant could see it. The way her eyes grew wet and lost a bit of luster. Her small pink lips bent slightly and I could hear her take a quiet, but sharp intake of air.

"That won't be necessary. I'm sorry for disturbing you. Thank you, and have a good evening."

Like a robot, she gave pleasantries as if they were pre-recorded. She turned on her heel, her waist long hair fluttering as a singular mass. I watched her leave in stark shock and numbness.

 _What have I done?_

Well… it was obvious. Mom said it herself, and now I have something I want. Even if I lie to myself, that fact won't change.

I looked at the floor and kneaded my fingers.

I didn't want Hikigaya to change. I wanted him to stay as the Hikigaya I knew. That way, there would be something I could do that they couldn't. That way I had a reason to continue being near him.

But… what would that mean for him?

 _What am I doing?_

I buried my face into my hands like a child.

"I'm so stupid."

 **Chapter 23.3: "Jungle Flower"**

 _ ***Hikigaya Hachiman  
*Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, Chiyoda Ward  
**_ _ **[August 30th / 5:16 PM]**_

Perhaps I was born a skeptic? Or maybe born with whatever genes made me more prone to being a skeptic. I wasn't sure when I first had the realization, but at some point in my (already too long) life I had grown wary of fortuitousness. After all, nothing in life came easily and I didn't have enough money to simply erase any sort of consequences my actions may cause. If things were too good to be true, they usually were. If things were too easy, they usually were.

The morning began as I expected, with absolutely nothing happening. And the lack of anything to worry or consider left me uneasy.

…

This, of course, was ignoring the electric atmosphere that crackled throughout the entire office. Every single person was high-strung as if they waited for Damocles' sword to come swinging down in a beheading arc. Thankfully, the intensity wasn't too long lived. As I predicted, a text-message had come to the phone we had discovered beneath the false bottom of the drawer that was within the Minato apartment. The contents of the message were simple: a single line of characters with an address. The Chief had gathered up a small contingency and left almost immediately, but not before making it explicitly clear that he did not want me along.

"Senpai?"

Being the type of person and partner that he was, Shiba stuck around.

"Eh?" I grunted, lifting my head from the comfortable nest my arms made upon the table. "What?"

"Are… you okay?" Shiba asked, appraising me cautiously. "I know you want to get to the bottom of the case and all…"

I let out a deep sigh and sat up straight, stretching my arms high into the air. The spinning blades of the ceiling fans rotated slowly, and I had the sudden thought that this was a sight I wouldn't see for a while as the weather got colder.

"I'm fine."

"You've been saying that a lot."

"I'm aware."

"... it almost sounds like you're trying to convince yourself."

"... won't deny that."

A somber silence fell between us. Trying to keep up appearances was tiring, and Shiba could see past those anyway.

"In the past… you would have left after the Chief anyway," Shiba said slowly. "You were never one to care about orders or rules."

I turned to look at him and met his eyes. How long had it been since we started working together like this? Those early days were rough, Shiba didn't know how to work with me and I didn't know how to work around him. We clashed frequently, and I'm not above admitting that I had taken advantage of his politeness and dragged us into some less-than-optimal situations. But we survived and closed cases. I could trust Shiba.

"I didn't go because I think they're wrong."

"... who?"

"The Chief and the rest of them. I don't think that's the right address."

"But didn't you say that Aoi would text us?"

"Yeah, I know." I grumbled, absentmindedly spinning a pen around my thumb. There was just… something wrong with this. Finding the words to describe this sensation was difficult. "Something inside me is saying that we're missing something."

Shiba made a contemplative hum, and I knew he too was going into 'detective-mode.' "Do you know what has got you thinking like this?"

"It just seems… too easy. Too straightforward."

"It's also equally likely that we're overthinking things."

"Valid point." Shiba was right, finding patterns where there were none was a common pitfall. But this wasn't that. No, it was more than that. "It's not that I'm finding threads here, it's that we're finding _none_ that's getting to me."

A man like Aoi was intelligent. No, a single word doesn't describe it well. He was smart, a man becoming a doctor who had to have developed a great awareness of action and reaction. He must have understood all of his options and I refuse to believe that he didn't consider the consequences of hypotheticals and the responses of those it could affect. The medical student accounted for all those with the clues he gave and the artifacts he left behind. Well thought out.

This couldn't be the end… could it?

I shook my head. "What if we weren't the ones to find the phone? Would Aoi risk just giving us a plain message?"

"He made it abundantly clear that he wanted the police to find it. What's there to doubt?"

"But why go through all this effort? Why couldn't he have used a more direct way to get the address to us? Why are there so many steps in between?"

"... did you come up with a profile for Aoi already, Senpai?"

"Somewhat."

Methodical. Careful. Wary. Intelligent. Meticulous. Clever. Disciplined. These were all things I imagined the man named Aoi Kaito to be. And none of these were consistent with how we were just given the information that Aoi implied would be the key to everything on a silver platter.

"I see… I can understand now, it does seem out of character."

I craned my head at him. "We're moving forward under the assumption that my profile is accurate? For all we know, I could be completely off." That was the source of all my doubt, did I truly grasp Aoi? Or was I just out of my mind? From a purely intellectual standpoint, the latter was far more likely than the former.

Shiba shook his head. "Senpai is never wrong when it comes to people."

"I honestly wish I was at times…" I sighed and laid my face back into my arm pillow.

"It's a valuable skill, Senpai. You've saved a lot of people."

"'Saved' is a strong word, Shiba. A very strong word. Detectives get to the bottom of conundrums, but we're not saviors."

"Others don't see it that way. Didn't Aoi refer to detectives as 'Solomon'?"

"The masses get us inflated all the time. And wouldn't it be great if we really were 'Solomon'? Asking a higher power for answers sounds hell of a lot easier than…"

Solomon… Solomon… seeker of knowledge… detectives...

Like lightning, an idea struck me. I quickly raised my head. "Shiba… hypotheticalIy speaking, if I referred to someone as 'Solomon' what would be your impressions of that person?"

"Have I met this person before? Or is it just from what you said?"

"Just from that. You never met this person, or saw them, or heard them, nothing. Just from my words alone."

"Hmm… I guess I would think they were probably smart."

"What about expectations? What would you assume to be their level of intelligence?"

"Well, if someone calls you 'Solomon' then clearly you demonstrate above average intellect. I would expect them to be able to have good deduction and observational skills as well as generally high knowledge in a lot of areas… Senpai?"

Shiba's words trailed off as he noticed that my mouth hung open. It clicked. Aoi's choice of words. The references. His personality. His intentions. _His expectations._

"He didn't want this information going to the wrong sources. He wanted the police to get it… but not just the police. He was looking for… us."

"'Us'? Aoi intentionally wanted to reach us?"

"No, not you or me, but intelligent people. Think about it, the convoluted methods of delivering information and clues. It wasn't just to throw undesirables off, he was testing us."

I stood up suddenly, surprising Shiba. Things were too easy. He got us to the end, so why would he just give us the answers so plainly? We had been tested, and the very fact that we had made it this far meant we passed. He called us 'Solomon.' He had expectations for us now. We proved that we can solve the last puzzle if we got to this stage. But… we didn't get any sort of message.

All we got was an address. No, we had more than just that. Like any good riddle, I have to consider everything. There had to be a common line, or something that we had overlooked. It all began with the missing persons report where it seemed as if Aoi had just vanished on his way to school. Missing books, his bag, and his coat along with a half eaten breakfast raised little in the way of red flags. No clues could be seen besides obviously placed bags of drugs that were almost begging to be found. Now in retrospect, this was likely Aoi's work as well, his way of communicating his involvement.

Finding him dead in another apartment far away from his legal residence that his parents were aware of confirmed the theory that he was on the run from someone. Conclusion from Forensics had it as suicide by overdosing, by definition meaning it was voluntary. I couldn't glean anything else. The only other thing that was there was a message written on the wall and the second phone being found beneath the false bottom of a drawer.

How could I forget about the first phone being delivered to HQ via mail? All with preset text messages at specific times to communicate from us from the grave. This was the only reason why Aoi would let himself die; no one would know who he gave this information to. Aoi had all the cards and he made sure it was going to hell with him. The ultimate way to keep a secret.

… secret?

Yeah, a secret.

I quickly made a beeline to the metal file cabinet located near the wall and pulled the middle drawer with more force than necessary. Shiba yelled in surprise at the sound of metal scraping against metal. My fingers flipped through the various rows of folders and separations until I found the one I was looking for. Rushing back to my table, I used an arm to sweep aside whatever loose papers and other stationeries in my way and emptied out the contents of the envelope on the now bare surface. With nothing distracting around, my mind began honing itself on the compilation of evidence before me.

Shiba's photos of Aoi's Roppongi apartment littered the corner to my top right. A copy of the first text message he had sent to the phone that had been mailed to HQ. Photos of the crime scene in Minato with his dead body on the floor were accompanied with the haunting picture of the charcoal message he scrawled on the wall, complete with Shiba's handwritten note that stated the Bible citation (first Book of Kings, chapter 5, verses 11 and 12). Finally, a blown up transcription of the address Aoi had sent in his latest, and likely last, text message.

"We've overlooked something. Missing something he hid for us here." I whispered to myself, and brought a hand to cover my mouth as I tried to find something.

"Is there anything left to get?" Asked Shiba. "It may be consistent with our interpretation of Aoi, but we barely have any interactions to draw any more conclusions from."

Shiba was right. We barely had any clues. In fact, the most direct message we had from Aoi was what he wrote on the wall with a piece of charcoal. Even his text messages had no implied subject he was talking to. As my eyes drew over the pieces of paper I noticed something strange with the way the latest address had been formatted. It was different from the first address… could this be?

"Shiba." I called out. "Can you text me your address?"

"Sure?" Shiba responded, bewildered. From the corner of my eye I saw him pull his phone out of his pocket. Within moments my own phone buzzed and I checked the text I received. I waved my partner over, placing down my phone screen next to the address the Chief had gone to.

"You see anything peculiar here?" I ask.

"I… don't think so?"

"The lines. The formatting. You sent it to me as a single line, Aoi didn't. He has line breaks, like it's a postal code."

The Japanese postal code system had a standardized format: the first line had the postal symbol that preceded the postal code, which was a series of seven numbers separated by a hyphen. The next line had the prefecture name, name of the ward, subarea name. It ended with three fields of numbers that represented the subarea number, block number, and house number. The final line was the name of the sender, which was Aoi Kaito in this case.

This was tedious to write, even more so to type. As a result, no one in a casual setting would do so, as proved by how even the tight collared Shiba sent me an abridged version. This was intentional. It _had_ to be.

"First book of Kings… chapter 6… verses 11 and 12..." I thought aloud.

A direct message with both numbers and letters. Could this be…? I would have laughed off my idea, but seeing as how we found something beneath a false bottom of a drawer, it was as likely to be the case.

I grabbed a pen and some paper. "We have 5 fields with numbers in the postal code. The first and second are in the postal code. The third, fourth, and fifth are each of the numbers between the hyphens standing for subarea, block, and house."

With a flourish of the pen I wrote down the numbers vertically. "Count the postal code as a single number, ignore the dash. We have 5 numbers. Now… this is a stretch, but Aoi gave us another 5 numbers as well."

"I… don't follow?"

"I don't either honestly, but let's just roll with this. The message on the wall was a Bible quote, right? From the first Book of Kings, chapter 6, verses 11 and 12. Those are 5 numbers as well. The first Book of Kings was the 12th book of the Old Testament, so 12. Chapter 6 is 6. Verses 11 and 12 are numbers 11 and 12. They line up… so say we add all of them to their respective fields and also subtract…"

I did the simple arithmetic, from the address Aoi had sent we now had two new sets of addresses.

"When we subtract, we get negative numbers. This address can't be real." I crossed out one of the new hypothetical locations. "Double check this address for me."

Shiba recited back the address before taking the slip of paper from my hand and opening a browser window on his computer. A quick search on an internet map revealed the information they were looking for. "It leads to an apartment complex in Chuo—"

I was already up and grabbing my blazer before he could even finish his sentence. "We have to go. Now."

"Y-yes!"

I remembered something, and pulled at my drawer and quickly sifted through the documents before finding what I wanted. I slipped it into the inner pocket of my blazer.

"Senpai?" Shiba called from the doorway of the office, ready to go.

"Here." I walked up to his side and we briskly made our way down the corridors. "We're taking my car."

"We have a patrol car that—"

"It's too slow."

Δ▼Δ

 _ ***Hikigaya Hachiman  
*Apartment Complex, Chuo  
**_ _ **[August 30th / 6:10 PM ]**_

Unlike the previous multi-story, multi-flat behemoth buildings we visited, this apartment complex was far more tame in comparison. It lacked the characteristics of hyper-modernity that I had grown accustomed to, with no expanses of glass, thin lines of steel, or columns at its foyer.

This building was made of old-fashioned brick and mortar. While it was reserved, it didn't lack any opulence however. The eave brackets that lined the bottom of every window was obviously carved by an artisan, as was the set of lions that greeted visitors. Carefully chiseled quoins told of attention to detail. The entire place oozed an old-time luxurious feel, fully complete with patterned carpets and Impressionist paintings in the lobby.

At least they had good taste.

"How may I help you officers?"

I stopped my admiration of a reproduction of Monet's _Water Lilies_ to get a look at the newcomer. Shiba was at my side in an instant. We had talked to the doorman as soon as we had arrived, and were barely able to show our badges before the man freaked and asked us to wait as he phoned his manager.

"Detectives, actually." I informed, stepping before Shiba and subtly holding him back with my elbow. "We have reason to suspect that your building could have been used for something related to a crime."

The manager's face paled. "C-crime!?"

Ah, I see. Not good under pressure. Didn't like problems? No, he didn't encounter problems in his day to day work. Cushy job, with a lot of responsibilities, but the ship had been righted far before he took the position. Family connections got him here, not any sort of merit.

"Yes, a crime." I sighed, pulling out my badge to show him. Shiba followed my actions. "I'm Detective Hikigaya, this is Detective Shiba. We'd like to talk to you."

"I-I-I…" The manager stammered, sweat forming on his forehead. "Y-yes, of course! How can w-we…?"

"Relax." I assured, probably to little benefit. "We're not going to bring a fleet of police vehicles to your front door, it's just us two. Your inhabitants won't even know we're here."

My words visibly calmed him down, no doubt he was worried how the presence of law enforcement on his watch would affect his standing within management. Honestly… such a simple man.

"A-alright." The manager removed his cap and wiped his brow with a handkerchief. "What do you need, D-detective?"

Just the title? Clearly, he forgot my name and Shiba's name. This man no doubt greeted tons of wealthy people, people whose egos would be bruised if you forgot the smallest of honorifics. Good, this plays to my advantage.

"I have a search warrant here. We need your full compliance, it shouldn't be anything too complicated. We simply want to search through your list of inhabitants, especially recent ones. And any security camera footage from certain days."

I pulled out a slip of paper from my inner pocket and showed it to him, from beside me Shiba inhaled a sharp breath and stiffened. The manager looked at it nervously, he quickly agreed and led us to the superintendent's office in the basement. On the way down, Shiba grabbed my arm.

"Senpai! What are you doing?" My partner hissed at me in a low voice, with anger that I hadn't seen in a while.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I responded loftily, and was rewarded with Shiba grinding his teeth. A moment of SSR rarity [2].

"That search warrant was for Aoi's apartment in Roppongi, the one we went to weeks ago! This is completely—"

"Arbitrary? Yes. Highly-illegal? Also, yes. Effective? Most definitely."

"You could go to jail! This is a federal offense!"

"I'll deal with that when the time comes. There are more important things to worry about."

Shiba looked at me part way concerned and disbelieving.

"I won't throw you under the bus Shiba. I'll take all the responsibility."

"That's not what the problem is here!"

We reached the bottom of the stairwell and were met with a dark basement. The only source of light came from an open doorway that made it far more appealing than the sprawling blackness from the various service corridors. I stepped inside leisurely, with Shiba still sputtering as he followed me, trying to find the words to speak whatever was on his mind. It was a quaint little office with a wooden work desk covered with tools in the corner and a bay of monitors at the other end. A middle-aged man with a somewhat large stomach sat in an office chair and gave us a small smile when the manager introduced him as the superintendent before scurrying away.

The superintendent rose slowly from his chair and offered a handshake. I took it graciously and felt calloused hands, so the subsequent rough accent didn't surprise me. "Detectives! What can I do for ya?"

Oh shit. With the question suddenly made before me, I realized that I didn't have any reference images of Aoi. My panic attack was short lived as the ever reliable Shiba sighed and stepped forward while reaching into his blazer's inner pocket.

"We're currently looking for any information about the whereabouts of a missing person." Shiba gave a printed picture of Aoi to the superintendent with both hands. "Have you seen anyone like this recently?"

"Hmm, this face does look familiar." The super scratched his head. "Looks like the kid who rented out an apartment on AirBnB a bit ago. Can't be sure, don't really have the ability to control who stays in that particular apartment."

"Why is that?" I asked, confused.

"It's a condominium. The owner can choose to temporarily rent it out themselves, since they own it. Even being the super doesn't let me have a say in it or not. AirBnB has been a popular choice lately."

"There must be some sort of record then?" Shiba inquired.

"'fraid not. The only record would be with AirBnB themselves. We don't get info like that on our end. Like I said, it's owned by someone else. They can do whatever they want with it, almost."

Is that right? I looked around the room, noticing the array of monitors that were playing black and white footage live from the floors above. "This building has CCTV's?" [3]

"We do. Footage is stored onsite. In this room actually."

"Can we take a look at them?"

"Sure."

The security footage was organized by time and date. I had Shiba fast forward the footage to the day Aoi had gone missing. Our search was instantly validated when we saw a blurry Aoi Kaito walk into the apartment building. He had a black book bag on his back, and a white coat within a plastic cover slung over his shoulder. He was seen going into the elevator. We continued to fast forward through that day, albeit at a slower speed. It was not until evening that he came back downstairs. An hour later the camera caught Aoi returning with a little girl in a white shirt in tow. Shiba and I traded looks.

I turned to the superintendent. "I need to see that apartment."

The superintendent nodded and walked over to a metal locker panel and unlocked it to open the door that revealed a rack of keys, each neatly labeled. He took a set of keys from the hook below the '15J' label.

"The condo is on the 15th floor, but the elevators are getting fixed right now. So we gotta take it up to the 13th floor and then I'll open up the emergency stairwell so we can go the rest."

"Thank you for your cooperation." Thanked Shiba politely. I stayed silent and simply followed the two as we were led to the service elevator that was at the end of one of the dark concrete halls. We packed into the metal casket awkwardly. Any sense of trepidation from this man was nonexistent, for as soon as the doors closed he immediately tried to make small talk.

"You know, my nephew was a cop."

"Really?" Responded Shiba, throwing the superintendent a bone. "Where did he work?"

"He was part of the SAT," the older man said with a hint of pride. And he should be, the Special Assault Team was the tactical assault force for the police system in Japan. They were elite among elites, albeit recently coming into some controversy as they weren't able to respond to the embassy terrorist situation fast enough, which had necessitated SFG intervention. The top brass at HQ were not pleased at being shown up on their own turf. "So I'm familiar with how the police operate, but not really the detectives."

"We're not really frontline combatants, like your nephew." Shiba explained. "We interview witnesses, interrogate criminals, and collect evidence so we can narrow down the suspects and find the perpetrator."

"Think you can investigate a smell? Some of the residents are starting to raise a fuss, but I can't find it anywhere." The superintendent joked to us.

Shiba laughed it off and awkwardly answered. "We'll see about that."

We got off at the 13th floor and were escorted into the emergency stairwell. As we walked up the two flights of stairs I noticed a lack of security cameras.

"There aren't any cameras in the emergency stairwell?" I asked the super.

"The owner is planning on retrofitting them to comply with those new housing regulations, but we won't be seeing that for a year or two."

"I see." Then Aoi and that girl could have easily escaped through here if they knew about this oversight. And he probably did.

We arrived at the 15th floor, and the super had to use his keys to allow us re-entry into the apartment complex from the emergency stairwell. We stepped out into a hallway where the walls were painted a light beige and the floor was covered in a brown patterned carpet. There was a large window located at the far end that blasted sunlight down the hall.

"15J is a bit secluded, it's further down and around the corner."

With the super's directions, we began our trek. The sound of our muffled footsteps upon the carpet reverberated eerily around us. As we turned the corner, the low setting sun flashed a beam through the nearby window. I winced and shut my eyes.

Under normal circumstances I probably would have never detected the smell that I did, as it was so faint. But as I was blinded, my body naturally focused on the senses that weren't compromised. A particular scent wafted across my nose, slightly masked by the air freshener used in the building. Underlying, but distinct enough if you were looking for it. It smelled of poison with a hint of sweetness, reminiscent of flowers in damp jungles yet with an earthiness of mud pits after a rainfall.

" _Hey, Sarge?"_

" _What is it?"_

 _A squadmate of mine looked at me in apprehension, his fingers alternating between gripping and letting go of the grip on his rifle, veins along the back of his hand popping at the force. His eyes looked at the_ thing _behind us._

My blood ran cold as my eyes followed the odor's invisible trail. My breath hitched.

I stopped walking, causing my two companions to also halt.

"What happened?"

"Is something wrong, Senpai?"

"Shiba." I addressed my puzzled partner. "Make sure you two stay here. No matter what, do not come into the apartment."

"Wait a moment! Wha—."

"Stay. Here." I cut him off, trying to inject as much severity into my voice as I could. Probably in a vain hope that it would cover the trembling of my larynx. "Under no circumstances, should you enter the apartment until I tell you to."

"Senpai, I don't—."

"Do you understand me?" I pushed.

"I—."

"Do. You. Understand?" I pushed harder.

"Y-yes… I'll stay here."

I nodded at him and made my way down the hall.

The lingering smell got stronger as I came closer to the door. It caused my head to throb and blur my vision. Labeled with the phrase '15J' upon a brass plate, the wooden portal seemed to shimmer as I inhaled more of that aroma.

It has a strong acrid body, akin to sulfur. Rancid and disgusting, but a part of me relished the sugary undertone. To think that I had once gagged at the very slightest whiff of it. I worried if I was starting to get used to it. Like how beer tasted awful at first, but then you adjusted to its bitterness by exposure. It scared me to think of it like that.

" _What do we… do about_ that _?"_

 _"Hm? I was thinking we just move on. I got all the info I could have. Can't really extract more from_ that _."_

 _"No I meant, what do we do with_ that _, as it is now?"_

I knocked on the door twice. No response.

I rapped on the door three times now, loudly. Again, no response. There was no going back now.

I used the keys the super had provided and unlocked the door with a haunting click. My hand twisted and pushed the door open inwards and my face was immediately scorched. The super-heated air seemed to amplify the scent, swallowing my senses whole. I could almost taste the rotten flesh.

" _You have anything in mind?"_

 _I could see him weighing the options in his mind, wondering if it was worth saying aloud. I respected that, but was also annoyed. I valued their opinion. Especially since none of us were used to dealing with this lug of a thing._

 _"We should bury it before we move."  
_

My hand reached for the light switch to my right. As the lights came, so did the sound of a Jungle I thought I had left years ago. My ears were flooded with the sounds of chirping cicadas and cawing birds within the rustling trees. The crashing of a river that was our vital source of water made for a bassline. The monkeys called each other with howls and screeches. And how could I forget the sound of awkward footsteps from boot-wearing humans as they crunched across dead leaves and branches?

" _I'm not sure we have the time." I responded with furrowed brows. "Why? Something bothering you?"_

 _"It's just that... in this heat it'll decompose faster, won't it? It'll smell even more and attract predators and stuff. And that'll attract the enemy too. We should bury it or burn it."_

 _"I see.…"  
_

Blood.

There was blood everywhere.

Not fresh, red blood, but dark, brown, and thick. Like sludge. The streaks and pools were festering with maggots, despite the blood having coagulated completely in the heat of the room.

My vision settled on the single object that stood at the center of the room. There was a rope tied to a hook embedded to the ceiling. Dangling from it was a crude plywood cross. And upon that cross lay a small body with frazzled black hair. Its neck twisted and held in a painful position. Limbs were tied into place with white plastic zip ties.

My eyes become more cognizant as I stepped closer, every footfall trepid and frightened. I knew she was dead, but something deep and primal inside me hoped she was alive. I didn't want this to be another death.

Another one I couldn't save in time.

I was near the body now, close enough to see the color of the little girl's eyes. They were a pretty blue, or as pretty as the eyes of a carcass could be. Lifeless and dull, I could only imagine their splendor when she was alive. She wore no clothing, revealing a gaping stomach and sliced flesh along her thighs and arms. The air was completely still and unbearable, not even a breeze to move the strands of her hair. Nails and lips were cracked, with an open mouth that served as a tunnel for flies. The skin was grey and stiff, all blood having either finally dripped out or coagulated within her. A grotesque Roman statue, it was like her relief was sculpted out of marble.

And then it hit me: she died.

She was dead.

 _I had let another one die._

The metropolitan apartment around me disappeared at the realization. The heat of the room was replaced by the humid fever of that God-forsaken Jungle. I could feel the sun beaming down rays of discomfort onto my back.

This was the prison cell that followed me to this day, even in my dreams.

The sounds of that world were like white noise now. I had learned to filter it, but I hated its presence. I had adapted. I had changed. I had given in to the pressures of the environment around me. And I hated it.

I didn't want to get used to this sound. I didn't want to get familiar with that smell. I didn't want death to be so common to my eyes.

I looked down at my hands, now covered with blood. I may have screamed. I may have cried. Who knows? My mind certainly didn't. I brought my fingers together, testing the viscosity of the liquid. It was thin, like water. As if I had dipped my hands into a beating heart just moments earlier.

 _Another one to answer for._

 _But my debts are already so large._

 _And my excuses are dead, alongside my innocence._

My eyes shifted to my front. The crucified child was gone, replaced with a new figure. A much familiar one.

A small girl with tan skin and long black hair that was childishly braided. It looked like my handiwork. A blue dress was over her, but it was filled with countless crimson holes that passed through her body. I could see right through her, like she was some sort of flesh-linked fence.

 _The first one to answer for._

How many more did I have to let die before I finally got my act together?

What was the point in leaving that God forsaken rain-forest, if this was all I was capable of?

Why bother continuing to exist? To just suffer and in turn, inflict suffering?

" _Mr. Soldier? When will I see you again?"_

 _Soon, very soon._

Her mouth moved like a marionette's. Her lifeblood spilled from between her lips with every syllable. She closed her mouth slowly, stopping the flow, and I watched her lips twist into a smile. She raised a limp arm to give me a tiny wave.

" _You'll remember us, right? You'll come back, right?"_

 _Soon, very soon._

"Senpai? Are you alright? You've been gone for an awful long time."

My lungs filled itself with that putrid air, as if I had just resurfaced from a literal Dead Sea. The Jungle faded away like a fog, taking the tiny girl in a blue dress with it. I blinked once and turned around, once again having returned to the apartment within a bustling city.

"You idiot!" I shouted. "Didn't I say to stay away!?"

"You've been gone for almost an hour, I was getting worried." Shiba's voice was just outside the doorway. "What's wr—."

The words never made it out of his mouth as he rounded the corner.

" _Alright, we'll bury the body. Strip him of any identification. Dog tags, patches, insignias, everything. In case they dig him up."_

 _My team got to work, pulling out their shovels._

 _I looked at my muddied boots, feeling an acidic burn coming from the pit of my stomach to the back of my throat._

I could see my old self in Shiba. The way his eyes widened and his face paled at the horrific scene before us. I used to do that. The way his nose twitched once as he suddenly became aware of the smell. I used to not know this scent either. The way he quickly buckled and kneeled over. How nostalgic, I used to do that too. The way he coughed violently and began to vomit. Yeah, I used to be able to do that.

"This is why I told you to stay away! Come on, we need to get you out of here." I walked forward with uneasy steps. I grabbed his collar and pulled him out into the fresher air of the hallway.

As I left the room, I left the body.

I probably left a bit of myself behind too.

Which was fine.

After all, this was another one I had to answer for. And my soul was all I had left to pay with.

 **Chapter 23.4:** " **Love is Fury"**

 _ ***Hikigaya Hachiman  
*Residential district, Shibuya  
**_ _ **[August 30th / 10:04 PM ]**_

A familiar house greeted me as I drove up the street. With careful turns of the steering wheel, I parked the Aston along the curb. The leather seats of the sports car seemed especially inviting tonight, as if it was doing all it could to stop me from getting out. At some point I finally managed to exit the car out into the world. The night's humid air filled my lungs as I inhaled, smelling of grass and ozone.

I walked towards the Tsurumi household and noted the silent evening. There was rain on the way, and the cicadas were nowhere to be seen… or rather heard. As I edged closer to my destination, the first sign of abnormality was Rumi sitting on the front steps with a worried look on her face.

"Rumi?"

Her head snapped up. "Hachiman!?" She exclaimed and ran up to me, wrapping her arms around my waist and burying her head into my chest.

"What's the matter?" I asked softly while stroking her hair slowly. She rubbed her face further into my shirt and shuddered. If she was this upset, something must be very wrong.

"It's Shizuka and Uncle Kenji… they're…" she said, her muffled voice vibrated my chest.

After carefully extracting myself from Rumi's embrace, I exchanged a brief look of concern with the teenager who nodded to let me know she was okay. I walked up to the door of the house I was so familiar with and turned the door knob. Like usual, it was unlocked and gave way without resistance. But tonight was not like every other night. And the screaming was evidence of this.

"YOU PROMISED ME! YOU PROMISED ME, KENJI!" Shrieked Shizuka, with uncharacteristic mania.

"Honey please, calm down!" The Chief responded, his voice strained with worry.

"Calm down!?" Her voice lowered by an octave, but the rage became even more evident. "You promised me he wouldn't see things like that! But he shoots a drug addict in a fucking bookstore and then he sees _that_!?"

"Honey, I know. I know!" The Chief tried to explain himself desperately. "I moved him from Homicides for that reason. We all agreed to this. I swear, I didn't know this would—."

"What if he breaks again!? Can you handle watching that!?"

"I—."

"He's been through so much… he shouldn't… why is this so…."

"..."

"He's trying so hard! He's trying his best, I thought... with her here, that things—!" I heard a horrible sob emanate from the woman who I always considered unbreakable.

"Honey…"

"You brought him into this!" She roared, the accusatory tone laced with betrayal and hurt. "You and your brother! Hachiman isn't… he isn't…" Shizuka's voice broke near the end, followed by the sound of someone stomping away.

"Honey, wait! Honey! Shizuka! Shizuka, please!" The Chief called out after his wife as I heard footsteps coming towards me.

Like a deer caught in the headlights, I'm face-to-face with Shizuka in a heartbeat. Her face was red, as were her eyes. The light of the entrance reflected off of tear stains that ran down her cheeks. Her breath hitched audibly when she looked at me. Before I could say anything she hugged me tightly and painfully, squeezing my arms against the sides of my body.

Shizuka let me go a second later and placed a hand to my cheek, I couldn't help but flinch at the touch. Everything seemed to electrocute me, and my body just became more numb. A walking corpse.

"Hachiman… Hachiman please… don't bottle it in!" She pleaded. "Tell me if you need help! Tell me if you're not okay... please just don't hide anything…"

"I-I-I'm fine…" I said hesitantly. "I-I think…"

Could you really say that you have emotions to be demolished if you were not human? After all, only humans could have thoughts and feelings like that. And you couldn't be a human if you had anything less than a full soul. After all my dues were settled, I had a little less than half.

In hindsight, nearly two years later, did I see that Jameson's calculus wasn't that far off.

 **Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**

References:

[1] Koto is a traditional Japanese string instrument with 13 strings and 13 movable bridges, and allows for an enormous number of possible sounds that produce characteristically "Asian" music.

[2] SSR is a common gacha term that indicates the top-tier echelon of rarity, commonly a word synonymous with "5 Stars." Many times, the chances of getting an SSR item/character/etc is less than 1%.

[3] CCTV stands for closed-circuit television. A system of video surveillance where cameras send footage to a single location locally. This is quite secure, and the only way to tamper is to physically change the actual wires and cameras, which is difficult or easily seen.

 **Author's Note:**

 **Sorry for the delay. The original plan was to edit chapters 1 to 22 and then finish up the rest of Arc 1 before I begin publishing again. Unfortunately, dealing with health problems (as usual) and a lack of motivation to write. The previous chapters have all been fixed so please feel free to reread.**

 **And so, here we are: Chapter 23**

 **Hachiman's hurt and trauma are far from over. The case takes a dark twist, and Aoi's final hidden message is harrowing for all involved, especially for our hero. This chapter was hard to write simply because of all the emotions I wanted to convey.**

 **The first section was one of regret that a parent has for their child: regretting not doing something when the time was right. The second was jealousy and insecurity, as seems to be the common theme with Secretary Morimi. The final section was to throw Hachiman further down the hole of madness.**

 **I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, there's more to come, and I'm not through breaking characters just yet. Special thanks to my team who did a fantastic job helping me through the process and having infinite patience while I dealt with personal life issues. Also want to give a shoutout to yahallo for editing this chapter.**

 **-SouBU**

 **(Editors: Lord of Admirals; Xynovitch; thatguy8801)**


	24. Our Soul's Quotient

**Chapter 24: "Our Soul's Quotient"**

My eyes fluttered open. The surface above me was unfamiliar and vaulted higher than I remembered. However, it did little to distract my disarrayed thoughts. Was I forgetting something? Wisps of thoughts escaped my mind's fingers, as if I was trying to recall a dream that had evaporated the moment I awoke. Strings pulled at the edges of my consciousness like a nagging mother.

Lights and strange shadows pulsed and reflected off the white ceiling. The stinging sensation in my neck made me aware that I was sitting upright with my head hung over something soft. The couch? I think it was the couch. Giggling to my left caused me to roll my head over, ignoring the uncomfortable strain it put on my neck. I came to look upon two expectant faces, half-peering over the arm of the couch.

 _What are you doing?_

I groaned and shoved half my head into the soft leather upholstery, covering an eye and doing the same to my other by slinging my arm across my face. After counting to 5, I removed my barriers.

They were still there, looking at me.

"Yeah, I'm up! I'm up!" I moaned and twisted back and forth before finally mustering the motivation to lift myself up.

The two little girls giggled and ran down the hallway, their white and blue dresses fluttering as they turned the corner. I managed to catch the latter waving at me as they slowly slid away, her red-flower print dress prominent. It reminded me of poppies.

Poppies?

I could have sworn…

Nah, let's not do more than what we can handle.

Uneasy steps led me into the hallway where large patio windows showcased a grassy lawn on the other side. There wasn't a single light turned on, but my path was instead illuminated by the dull grey sunlight from the cloudy morning. It didn't take long to reach the bathroom, and took even less time to brush my teeth and splash some water onto my face.

While drying off, I made the mistake of looking into the mirror. I was a mess, plain and simple. I had put off shaving again as evidenced by a haggard five-o-clock shadow that looked far less flattering on me than on the Chief. Dark circles bottomed out my eyes and were almost indistinguishable from trenches.

"Didn't Komachi have some gel for eye-bags? Caffeine infused or whatever?" I grumbled into my towel as I tore my gaze away. "Should probably ask her to get me some."

My slippered feet softly made contact with the floor. I ran a hand through my hair as I entered the kitchen. There was already activity; the two girls were sitting next to one another at the dining table and doodling away.

"You two want anything to eat?"

Diminutive heads snapped upwards and a pair of blue and brown eyes looked at me questioningly. The taller girl in the white dress went to nod while the other shook her head. They looked at each other with wide eyes before jerking them back to me and then to one another. This repeated for several moments before my patience was at its limit.

"Alright. If you change your minds, just let me know." I sighed, opening the refrigerator and finding it stocked, a stark contrast to my own kitchen's pitiful state of affairs. There was a period recently where my pantries were stocked with all sorts of fresh groceries and foodstuffs, but that all seemed like a bygone memory.

With foresight, I had bought some onigiri on the way back last night from a convenience store. I picked at the cellophane wrapping as I took a seat at the foot of the dining table. Some mumbling accompanied my lazy attempts at finding the edge. From the corner of my eye, I saw the girls still at work. My meal was not to be denied, and at last I found my way past the wrapping and bit ravenously into the rice ball. It was cold and tough, with no flavor profile other than 'rice' and 'salt.'

Chewing thoughtfully, I finally looked over at my two breakfast companions. They were drawing, but I didn't see any paper nor writing utensils. Juvenile fingers acted as brushes, forming lines of thick red ink on the surface of the table to draw crude stick figures holding hands. It was obvious that there were two families, but between them was another strange creature. A man with small eyes and two horns.

"Who's that?" I asked.

The two girls looked at one another before beaming at me in unison.

I blinked and in my confusion decided to simply stay silent and finish eating. The girls weren't simply satisfied with people and started drawing houses, flora, and fauna. The kid with the blue dress hummed in dissatisfaction when she ran out of paint. She dipped a finger into the red prints that littered her dress, and removed a digit soaked in red.

I blinked once more. Those weren't flowers at all.

"Hachiman?" A voice called, accompanied by a hand on my shoulder.

The sudden call made me jump and strain my head to look at the person who had managed to sneak up on me. Clad in sweats, Shizuka stood behind me with her hair tied into a ponytail, complete with a worried look as she pressed a comforting weight onto my shoulder.

"M-morning…" I managed to croak out.

"What are you doing just sitting in the dark?" She asked, looking at the half eaten onigiri in my hand. "How long were you here for?"

"A few minutes… I think? I just woke up."

"What? But the TV's still on in the living room."

I scratched my scalp. "Oh, right. I couldn't sleep last night, so I was just watching whatever was on. Guess I passed out on the couch."

Shizuka's fingers squeezed, as if to reassure that I wasn't going to go anywhere. "Okay… just… just don't worry me like that. I didn't see you in your room so I…"

"... sorry..."

"It's fine, I'm just being irrational. You have nothing to apologize for." She turned away to turn on the kitchen lights, causing me to wince and squint as my eyes adjusted. "Rumi's still asleep. And Kenji… well, I think he's asleep in the basement. I'll make some breakfast for everyone."

"Sounds good." I scarfed down the last of my impromptu meal and stood up to throw out the wrapper.

"You're not hungry?" Shizuka asked as she tied an apron around her waist.

"Not really."

My instant response was met with a karate chop to my spine.

"You're not getting any brownie points with me for pretending, you know."

I hissed, and rubbed at the spot with the back of my hand. "Alright, alright, alright. Just spare me the pain. I still want to have the ability to walk."

"Sissy."

"... sure."

Who knew trying to protect your spinal cord was emasculating? I grumbled half heartedly as I walked up to Shizuka's side and washed my hands in the sink. She handed me a rag to dry my hands on.

"Give me half an hour. Why don't you relax a bit? Bit of a gloomy day."

I didn't answer as I stared at the piece of linen in my hands. The door to the refrigerator opened again, and I heard Shizuka rummaging through the contents, murmuring to herself.

"I knew I should have gone shopping last night. We're gonna be having eggs then, is that okay with you?"

"..."

"Stupid me, it's obvious. Sorry about that." The distinctive sound of a stone cutting board touching the marble surface of the kitchen counter cut through the morning lull. It was soon followed after by the rhythmic knocking of a knife slicing through vegetables.

"I know you say that you can actually eat tomatoes, but if you don't _like_ it you don't have to force yourself. It's not going to waste if you don't want it. In that case… how about a chive and pepper omelette?"

"..."

"Do you want salt added as well? How fluffy do you want it?"

"..."

"Hachiman?" The sound of chopping stopped.

"..."

"Hachiman, you ass! Don't ignore me!"

"..."

"Hachiman, I swe—" Shizuka whirled around with hands on her hips menacingly, but stopped herself. "What are you doing?"

"Mmm?" I looked down to see my hands moving on autopilot, rubbing the damp rag on the surface of the dining table in hurried circles. "Uhhhh… cleaning?"

Shizuka eyed me suspiciously. "It was already clean."

"Oh."

Δ▼Δ

I vividly remember a time in grade school when I was caught eating candy during class. My teacher at the time was very strict, and didn't hesitate to discipline us at the smallest infraction. You could frequently see students in trouble sitting outside in the hall whenever he was teaching a class.

It seems there were some habits you just never grew out of.

I was sitting outside of the briefing room with my back to the wall and knees drawn to my chin. I attracted a fair amount of bewildered looks from passersby as they walked through this hallway. No doubt I made for a bizarre sight: a lone detective not in the briefing room where the rest of his colleagues were situated during a rundown.

"Alright, let's get up to speed." The Chief's voice rang out, killing all the chatter from the assembled law enforcers.

It wasn't like I _didn't_ want to be there, but the executive decision was made. The Chief had the investigative team of Shiba and I suspended from working on the case indefinitely, effective this morning. This meant I wasn't allowed anywhere near the case in any capacity: which included briefings. Of course, I protested, but I was outnumbered. That bastard Shiba already threw his support in with a phone call from home (as he was on medical leave). No doubt Shizuka had a hand in this as well.

"Yesterday, this case officially took a turn for the worse." The Chief's grave voice inspired little confidence. "Aoi did in fact send us the location where another clue could be found, but it was coded and unfortunately my own contingent was unaware. However, Detective Shiba and Hikigaya figured it out and got to the correct address. What they found… well, it wasn't pretty."

I didn't like it. I didn't like it at all. They were going to take me off after we came this far? Not happening. If there's anything I learned from my time on this Earth, it was that rules were a formality without a particularly intimidating stick. [1]

"As you can see… "

I heard a few clicks, probably the plastic remote he used when he was displaying things on the projector. My back slumped further down the wall when I heard gasps. He was showing them _that_ scene. Forensics must have had a field day. From the corner of my eye I noticed the two children sitting next to me, mimicking my posture in their white and blue dresses.

"As you can see… we found two dead bodies. A 10 year old girl, and a man in his middle forties."

Eyelids closed and sealed off my vision as memories surfaced. I gritted my teeth and took deep breaths. When my eyes opened, the children were still to my side. They noticed my gaze and turned to look at me, the one closest tilting her head in curiosity.

I opened my mouth to ask a question, but was interrupted by a voice in front of me.

"Well, well, Hikigaya-kun. What trouble have you landed yourself in this time?" Yukinoshita Haruno stood before me with a silver laptop in hand, clad in a crisp black suit and thin slacks. Even with the modest wear, it hugged her twin waist and hips.

I huffed, looking away. "Candy."

Haruno chuckled emptily. "It must have been very tasty if you were willing to risk it."

"Coffee candy is always worth it."

"Hoh?" Haruno narrowed her eyes at me in amusement. "So even you fall to the vices?"

"I'm not a hermit."

"Gluttony doesn't suit you."

Understatement of the century. "I agree."

"...10 year old girl, and a man in his mid forties…"

Haruno sighed and leaned down to sit next to me. I simply stared, unsure what her intentions were. She didn't even look in my direction as she placed her computer in her lap and rested her head against the wall. The scent of faint perfume wafting from her hair made me acutely aware of what tier of creature I was dealing with. The sight of rigid cheek muscles made it even more obvious.

I sat in silence, uncertain as to what I was supposed to do. No augmented reality windows were popping up and prompting me with pre-established decisions. I could really use a 50/50 here. [2]

"Ahhhh, don't stare at me like that Hikigaya-kun. I'll come clean." She groaned. "I am certainly NOT doing well, thank you for asking."

Is she throwing me a bone? She must be throwing me a bone.

"...what now?" I asked slowly.

"Many things. Well, just one. But that one thing happens to be many." Her voice lacked even the campy enthusiasm she commonly indulged in.

"I thought there was nothing you couldn't handle."

Haruno snorted softly, resting her forehead against her knees. She looked at me from the corner of her eyes, intelligent violet pupils observing my face. "Of course. I'm just resting, that's all."

Neither of us broke eye-contact and we fell into a silence only broken by the Chief's words from the briefing room.

"...cause of death for the girl is blood loss. Lacerations to her neck and stomach likely avenues of…"

Haruno looked away, while I simply blinked. She moved closer before sighing quietly, and spoke in whispers. "It's politics, Hikigaya-kun. Politics is what I'm having difficulty handling."

Red alert! Warning word detected! Time to switch topics.

"Why are you here and not in your office?"

"Also because of politics."

Outstanding move, Hachiman.

"...adult suffered blunt force trauma to the skull, and was most assuredly an instant death…"

"Yeah, words are hard." I muttered with some attempt to inject some sort of life into my voice.

"Things aren't looking too good, Hikigaya-kun. Crimes are rising and the courts are being flooded." Haruno's voice was soft, but the underlying strain was clear. "My office is hiring additional staff to deal with the onslaught, but I fear that this is just the start of things to come. The Mayor wants to expedite the process."

"He wants you to hurry up throwing people into jail?" It clicked in my head instantly. "Election season?"

"Yes. I wanted to talk it out with Chief Tsurumi and get his perspective…"

"...two bodies were killed at the same time…"

"...but it seems the Tokyo Metropolitan Police also have their hands full. Sounds grizzly."

"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I don't think I can tell you that things will get better." A flutter of motion in front of me caused my head to flick upwards. The two girls were holding hands and twirling one another in a clumsy dance.

"Not surprising at all, Hikigaya-kun. You've been adversely affecting my life since the moment we met."

"...then please stop coming after me."

"Why would I do that? You're so much fun!"

"...yes, of course." I sighed. The two girls tripped over each other's feet and fell to the ground, giggling all the meanwhile.

"You should trust your Onee-san!" Haruno chuckled. "But I shouldn't be hogging all the fun for myself."

"...what?" My back straightened, and my spine brushed the wall. Haruno was looking straight at me with clear eyes.

"You've been avoiding Yukino-chan." My district attorney didn't even phrase her words as a question.

"I've been avoiding a lot of people," I brushed off. "You among them."

"So you admit it?"

"No. Things just happen to get in the way. I'm really—"

"'Really busy.'" Haruno finished my sentence for me. "Too busy to talk to your friends and family?"

"Hey, listen—"

"No. I will not." She showed no interest in hearing my side of the story. "After all, I'm a busy person as well. And I'm only sitting here to let you know that your sister wishes to meet you."

"Komachi?" The two girls froze and looked over at us. "What did she tell you that she couldn't talk to me about?"

"Hmm? She should have called you or left a voice message at the least. Perhaps even a text?"

"..."

Shit.

"Yukino is with her as well."

"What!?" Anger bubbled in my stomach and I whispered harshly. "You're going to use my sister against me!?"

"Not at all. This was your sister's idea." The two girls were staring at us with vacant eyes as Haruno spoke. "Your case's verdict will be delivered soon. Think about how concerned your sister must have been when your lawyer phones her saying that she couldn't get into contact with you."

"So what? I just ignore the elephant in the room?"

"Don't get things twisted, Hikigaya-kun. We were driven to do this for you, because of you."

"A goddamn note would have been good enough."

"Of course it could have." Haruno scoffed. "But then I would be missing out."

"...on what?"

"On asking what you think you're accomplishing by avoiding us all."

My throat went dry, as if I had just swallowed a fistful of sand. I'm fully aware of how weak I am. I knew I wouldn't have the strength to shake it off should a hand reach out to me in earnest. However, what about the cold pale hands that also held me? As if being pulled in two different directions. No. Enough of that. Honoring the dead? Useless. Making use of the life they gave you? It was the only thing that felt—

My silence was all the confirmation Haruno needed.

"Are you afraid that speaking your mind will hurt those who care about you? Well, I hope you realize that staying silent has the same effect. If this is what you actually think, your priorities are horrifically flawed."

Haruno stood up, brushing her pants and back-side. She turned and walked away, the two girls quickly scampered out of the way to let her through. Haruno stopped and looked over her shoulders before delivering her parting words.

"Go and talk to them, Hikigaya-kun. No matter how much you run away, you can't expect them to stop chasing after. Not after all that you've done. I'm among them, by the way."

"... is that how it is?." I whispered.

"Yes. You can't simply shrug us off."

She was gone.

Δ▼Δ

 _ **[Yukino POV]**_

"If that's all, I really should be leaving."

Hikigaya-kun's chair scraped against the floor as he stood. He placed a hand on Komachi-san's shoulder for a brief moment before walking off without making eye contact with either of us. And like a spirit, it felt as if his presence was never there to begin with. I was the one who watched him leave with my own two eyes and I still wasn't certain.

I turned back to Komachi-san. She slumped over in her chair and rested her chin upon a propped up arm. She slowly traced uneasy circles on the condensation that had formed on the surface of her cup of iced-coffee. Something struck a chord within me when I noted the flat line her lips made and the stillness in her cheeks. I tilted my head slightly.

"Well, that went as expected." The younger girl sighed, exhaling and seemingly deflating. All the cheerfulness and energy she had showcased in front of her brother leaving with her breath.

"I would have liked a little more assurance, but his response was… on a whole, not at all surprising." Even as the words left my mouth, I felt myself cringe.

"What a jerk," Komachi-san grumbled. "He could have pretended to care. At the very least offer to pay for our bill."

I smiled and giggled softly. "What can one expect? He was quite stubborn during our teenage years, and still is by any measure."

My words appeared to catch her off-guard. Her eyes widened and to my worry, she didn't immediately respond.

"Always been stubborn, huh?" Komachi-san whispered. The air around her became tense, like the calm before a storm.

"Is something wrong, Komachi-san?"

"... No. Nothing's wrong. Not really."

I grew concerned. "Komachi-san?"

"Everything feels the same, Yukino-san." She seemingly ignored my query. " _Everything_ has been the same. It feels as if nothing's changed since he came back home four years ago from that place."

Four years ago? Of course, she means Sri Lanka.

"...do you want to talk about it?"

Komachi-san blinked owlishly before turning to look at me in surprise. "... now that I think about it, I never did talk to anyone else about this."

"I am more than willing to listen. Although, I must apologize in advance, as I know I am not the most tactful person and I would hate to make you feel uncomfortable."

She shook her head and smiled ruefully. "No, I actually really, really appreciate it. I wanted to talk to you anyway, I just didn't expect it to be this soon."

"…it sounds as if you were expecting this?"

I received a single nod. "I was. It's happened multiple times… but that's just what I was able to see or allowed to see."

A sliver of doubt wormed its way into my mind. "Then… is this wise? Leaving him to his own course of action? I worry that his stubborn streak may have gone too far and—"

My words are interrupted by Komachi-san letting out a hollow laugh. It would have felt completely out of place were it not for the thin smile that she wore and the lifeless eyes that topped it all off. I was struck with a feeling of déjà vu. "Hearing someone else say it out loud is kind of refreshing."

She continued. "You're not wrong, Yukino-san. He's always been stubborn. Right until the very end. Why else would he act like such an idiot?"

I felt my cheeks warm. "I-I didn't mean to give the impression that I was critical of his actions. I just have some concern that— "

"—that he's doing too much. Drowning himself in work." Komachi-san finished my sentence for me. "Obsessive. Distant. Brooding. Quiet. Manic. At some point, you probably thought he was suicidal. I wouldn't be surprised if you still do."

My brain grinded to a halt at the bluntness of Komachi-san's words. What she was saying, I agreed with. But there was… something off.

I spoke hesitantly. "I do not think he wishes to do such things, but there's this sense that he's pursuing some goal with all his might. Even if it comes at the detriment to everything else, even his health."

Another silence settled between us. This time I was filled with a mixture of nervousness and dread.

"... yeah, I thought so too." Komachi-san said, so softly that I wasn't certain if she had spoken.

"Then… do you have any sort of idea what this goal is?"

"Mmmm... you probably already have a theory, being his lawyer and friend and all. I'm sure you heard the story of that time."

"Would I be correct in assuming that the trauma he suffered in Sri Lanka is the root cause of all of this?"

She hummed thoughtfully. "Kinda, sorta? You got it right the first time. He's like this because he's stubborn."

"I… do not understand?" My confusion was audible.

After all, Hikigaya-kun was so different from what I remember. From a purely physical standpoint, his lankiness in highschool had given way to the almost imposing man today. He spoke even less now, but his presence was almost suffocating when he began to focus. Just being in the room with him felt like he was observing you, even if he had yet to lay an eye on you. The teenager who spoke of his dream of being a house-husband and frequently tried to skip out on work had turned into an excessively hard worker today. There was just so much that wasn't the same. The difference was staggering.

"He bottles his problems. Doesn't say a peep," Komachi-san said directly. "Probably doesn't want to 'burden' us. Even four years after he came back and convinced everyone that he was healthy enough to go back into society, he never talks about that time."

My eyes shot open. "I can't believe it… Not even to you?"

"Nope." This was accompanied by a dismissive gesture. "Kinda childish, don't you think? I mean, keeping secrets from _me_ , his adorable younger sister of all people?"

"I'm assuming you're aware of the court-martial?"

Komachi-san snorted. "Yeah. Not from him though, Kenta-san was the one who did. He was Hachiman's commanding officer and visited our house a few times."

The Tsurumi's? There was so much more being brought forward, I had to carefully choose my words.

"I can sympathize with his insistence to avoid the topic. He doesn't wish to relive those memories. A-and he believes he has done some terrible things. He cherishes you, Komachi-san. Perhaps he doesn't want you to be disappointed in him?"

"I thought that too. But it doesn't make sense to me. I mean, if he did it with outsiders, it's one thing. But even us? Is he afraid of being judged by his own family and friends? By me? Why does he hold us so far away?"

"… as I recall, you two were quite close." I could never forget the way the two siblings were. Sometimes I entertained the idea that neither kept secrets nor lied to one another. An ideal that I envied and desired, and took nearly a decade to achieve.

"We were. Then." She shrugged tiredly. "But I haven't heard beyond snippets from other people. Some extra stuff I know because he screams about it in his sleep when he's having nightmares. He's told even less to Mom and Dad. Kenta-san, Kenji-san, and Shizuka probably know a little more than that. Other than the people that were trapped there with him, I don't think anyone knows the whole story."

My mind was awhirl. Was this really Komachi-san? Hikigaya-kun's younger sister? I was shocked at the blasé manner with which she was talking about such a sensitive topic. As if it didn't matter to her. Impersonal with a cold and clinical touch.

"I won't try to pretend as if I understand what he's going through, but I know how he sees you." I began. "It might seem silly to us, but he could still have the irrational fear of you judging him. He just wants to remain that older brother you love so much."

Komachi-san gave me a blank stare. And suddenly it became clear to me. Why she seemed so familiar to me, so similar to something I had seen before. Her tone, her eyes, her mannerisms: it reminded me of Hikigaya-kun.

"I know my brother, and I love him too! It's just… this can't be it. I think there's more…"

Komachi-san closed her eyes in visible concentration, when she opened them she directly addressed me.

"Tell me, Yukino-san. Do you think he's an evil person? Do you think he would torture people just because?"

That was…

"No...no I don't. But… I think he could. He told me that he had no other alternatives. He was trying to save his own life, and the lives of others. This, I'm sure of."

My statement hung in the air between us for a moment.

"He's a really gentle person, you know?" She spoke with a heartbreakingly tender and soft tone. "He doesn't want to hurt anyone, not even a little bit. He'd rather hurt himself."

I agreed. This was what I thought as well. That day when he was suffering from a fever and he spoke without the guard he had taken to wearing to everyone. I couldn't forget what he said.

"It's really obvious when you think about it. I mean, a guy with PTSD comes back home, and then flies off to a big city? All because he wants to join the police as a detective, even after all he went through? And he's solving cases like there's no tomorrow? The only reason I can think of is that he's trying to atone."

What?

"Atonement… for the torture?"

UN Declaration of Human Rights Article 5. That was what Hikigaya-kun had been charged with. A human rights violation that cited subjecting fellow persons to cruel, inhumane, or degrading treatment or punishment. If he was trying to atone, it would naturally be for this. And in that case… it meant that more likely than not, he probably did do something to soldiers and civilians.

My blood chilled at the thoughts.

Komachi-san nodded. "He is afraid of judgment, Yukino-san. Just not the kind you think. I know him, and he knows me. You know him, he knows you. We both know he did it because he'd rather be the one to make the hard choices than anyone else. And he knows that we wouldn't judge him.

"Hachiman isn't afraid that we'll judge him to be a horrible, evil person. It's the opposite. He's afraid that if he tells everything to us, his closest, he's going to be forgiven."

I physically recoiled as her words blindsided me. I opened my mouth to answer, but could not formulate a sound. Komachi-san wasn't disturbed by this and continued to talk.

"Hachiman's thought process isn't all that weird. Pretty straightforward, actually. He doesn't want to hurt people, he thinks that's wrong. Torture is hurting people. He tortured people. Conclusion: he did wrong."

"B-but that's absurd!" I sputtered. "How can he think that…! Especially with the circumstances as they were! A-and…!"

Komachi-san smiled gently, the edges of her lips rising slightly. "Yeah it is. It's crazy, isn't it? In fact, I really do think Hachiman's insane."

I felt my eyebrows raise. "T-that's…"

Komachi-san's eyes widened in panic as she realized the way in which I had interpreted her words. She flailed her arms in from her. "No, no, no, no! I don't mean that in a bad way. It's just that… mmmm…"

She stopped speaking momentarily to gather her thoughts.

"Nowadays, I don't think insanity is that rare. We all have some sort of screw loose."

To accentuate, she spun a finger against her head. The universal gesture that someone had a screw loose.

"Everyone has flaws: we're all broken in our own unique ways. Recently, I started thinking that this success and happiness in life everyone talks about has more to do with how we learn to live with our flaws or adapt to them."

Komachi-san took a sip from her iced-coffee. There was nothing left in the cup besides the ice. The sound of her sucking the last vestiges of remaining liquid punctuated a shift in tone.

"I'm not stupid. I'm not naive enough to think that he might ever heal. So far, it seems that I was right. He's stubborn. So stubborn to atone, to find some way to right wrongs."

"...even if they're self-perceived? Even if he's the only one who thinks so?" I whispered despairingly.

"When it comes to him, it's probably the only opinion that matters."

"You make it sound as if he's afraid of change that is good for him."

"Yeah, it does kinda sound like that, doesn't it?" Komachi-san laughed. "But it is. He hasn't changed a day since he…"

Her words trailed and I could feel the turmoil in her voice. I had to do something to comfort her. Something to give her strength and hope… but how? I was out of my element. Comforting others was a skill I was aware I never developed. But I had examples to base my actions off of. How would Yui-san handle this?

Perhaps… I should try to hold her hand? I reached out slowly, but recoiled when I heard her begin to speak once more.

"It was raining the day when the man from the military showed up at our front door. He was the one who let us know that Hachiman went missing."

I stiffened.

"I didn't believe it at first. I thought it was impossible. Hachiman could do anything if he set his mind to it. So there was no way he was missing. They probably missed his messy head during a count or something. He did love slouching.

"But he didn't come back.

"Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. As all this time passed, I kinda sorta naturally accepted that he was missing. Didn't give up hope though! No, sir.

"He was my ever reliable older brother. He pretended to be dumb, but he's actually pretty witty and resourceful when the chips are down. His plans aren't the cleanest, or the best, but they work. So he would be home in no time.

"That hope was easy to keep at first. But the days rolled on. Life still goes on, and I started to think about other things. School. College. Friends. TV Shows. Books. Games. Kind of smothered that fire.

"I remember a friend asking me about my brother, and my first thought was 'Ah, my dead older brother.' I was so surprised. When did I start thinking like this? Did I think he died, so that's why I forgot? Or did I forget about him, and so he was essentially dead?

"Something changed in me then, Yukino-san. The hoping. The forgetting. The remembering. The waiting. It did something to me.

"When Hachiman came back, it was a disaster. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't eat. He was always screaming and crying. He was always sick. But… but I wasn't worried.

"Crazy, right?

"When he began pushing people away as he sat in his room with the lights turned off and covered in blankets, I didn't panic.

"Even now, I can see the bags under his eyes. He's lost weight again. The haircut you gave him is completely gone. He looks dehydrated. Even so, right now I'm not worried in the slightest. No matter how you look at it, I'm a horrible sister."

I had heard enough. My hand crossed the distance in a flash and my fingers wrapped around hers. Was it the iced drink that had made her hands so cold? Or was it the things she was saying?

"Please stop this, Komachi-san," I pleaded. "You're being ridiculous and exceedingly harsh on yourself. You love your brother; I and many others can see that. And he cares deeply for you as well."

A weak smile came back.

"Thank-you for saying that, Yukino-san… but I know what I am. Maybe that's what I look like on the surface to you. But inside? Nothing. Ironic, isn't it? I'm more upset over how I wasn't upset when I was supposed to be.

"It took me awhile to figure out why.

"Yukino-san, I'd rather have a dysfunctional and hurt older-brother than a dead one. Onii-chan left for Sri-Lanka and Hachiman came back. But they're both my brother and I… now that I think about it, I'm probably insane too."

"I—"

"I've tried everything, and I'm out of ideas. The drive is gone. I hate myself for feeling this way, but whenever I see Hachiman alive it stings a little less. I know what he's doing isn't living, but I can't do anything anymore. Which is why I need help.

"I was listening. That night on his birthday, when you two were talking.

"Let me tell you: I was blown away. You knew even less than we did of the whole situation, but he still answered you anyway. He had no problem sharing memories of that year with you. He trusts you.

"I wasn't sure at first. He hasn't seen you since highschool, and neither have I. People change; distances make those changes even larger. I didn't know if you were still the same person. But that night? I knew you were special."

I blushed and opened my mouth to refute Komachi-san's assertions, but I never got the chance as she steamrolled onwards.

"I need your help, Yukino-san. I can't do this anymore. I don't have the resolve anymore. Somewhere along the way, I forgot how to cry. I'm not even sure if I really want to help him anymore…

I mean… what if we hurt him more trying to fix him? Thoughts like these… they really scare me.

"But you, Yukino-san, you're special. And he cares about you in a special way.

"I know I'm pushing this on you. And I want you to do it very badly...but there's something you need to know."

My heart rate increased and I gave Komachi-san's hand a reassuring squeeze.

Komachi-san took a shaky breath. "Hachiman is broken, but he can't adapt to the cracks alone. He needs someone. But this person has to be amazing. They have to be willing to take his very heavy burdens on their own back. They need to become his support. This can't be half-assed! If this person failed…"

Her head dropped, and blank bangs covered her eyes, blocking them from view.

"... he might..."

At some point, Komachi-san's hand had escaped my grip. Now she had wrapped her fingers around my wrist tightly, almost painfully.

"... he might just roll over and die."

Δ▼Δ

 _ **[Hachiman POV]**_

Pushing the heavy oak doors inward, a gust of air rushed past me. The humid air gave way to the pleasant air conditioned courtroom. The creaking of the doors was drowned by the chatter as various officials and professional observers spoke amongst themselves. I walked down the aisle and my eyes met with the inquisitive stare of the judge. I gave a polite nod in response, to which she returned slowly.

I slid into my seat and rolled my shoulders. A small cough came from my side.

"You're 10 minutes late." Yukinoshita muttered without a shred of emotion. Her eyes were cast downward at a notepad on her lap; pen in hand, yet writing nothing.

I looked away and shoved my hands into pockets as I slumped. "I'm 5 minutes early."

For the trial, that is.

"Komachi-san and I both told you what time to meet me here."

"...extenuating circumstances got in the way."

"..."

"..." I could feel her looking straight at me.

"... you don't have to lie to me. I thought we were past that?"

"I'm not lying to you."

 _'You just don't know if it's true or not.'_ Was left unsaid.

"I care about you, Hikigaya-kun," Yukinoshita said bluntly. "But it seems as if you're actively working against my attempts to help."

I felt my eyebrows raise, but I stopped my gut reaction to look at her.

"You've helped a lot with the court case. I appreciate that."

"... you know I'm helping you… but did you want my help?"

My head was abuzz with confusion. What?

I turned my head towards her, but before I could answer, the Judge struck her gavel calling for order in the court. As the talk died down, the Judge went through the proceedings like Yukinoshita had told me earlier in the week. The Judge held out a gloved hand and an aide elegantly offered her a sealed white envelope. With a silver letter opener and an agonizing slowness, the Judge emptied the contents. She peered through the bottom rim of her reading glasses as her eyes scanned the paper line by line. Finally, she cleared her throat.

"I will now read the verdict."

I swallowed audibly, the gravity of the situation finally materializing in my mind. A sudden tug on my right arm nearly pulled me off my chair. I looked down to see Yukinoshita squeezing my sleeve with two fingers, biting her bottom lip as her resolute ocean blue eyes locked on the judge's stand.

"'In the case of the Ouma family versus Hikigaya Hachiman and the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, we— the jury— find the defendant, Hikigaya Hachiman not guilty of the charges of excessive force, homicide, and manslaughter brought against him'." The narration of the judge continued as she folded the paper. "This was a unanimous decision found by all 13 members of the jury council."

The judge leaned forward and spoke clearly. "Detective Hikigaya, you have been acquitted of these charges and have been placed back into good standing within the eyes of the state. Please continue with your duties as a public servant of this city. The court is now adjourned."

The gavel was slammed against its base.

...over.

It was over.

Despite the weight my mind felt, a feeling of relief welled within. Words failed me, not even being able to materialize concrete thoughts. When I turned to look at Yukinoshita, I saw her smiling warmly. It was contagious and was impossible for me to keep the edges of my lips from curling. Oh, right. I should thank her properly.

"Thank you," I said genuinely, feeling better than I did the entire week. Yukinoshita's smile grew a bit wider, and she opened her mouth to speak.

"MURDERER!" A voice screamed out. I stood in shock, whirling around to cover Yukinoshita and came face to face with Ouma's mother staring at me in outrage. "YOU MURDERER!"

Guards from the rear of the courtroom came down in a flurry and created a human wall between me and Ouma's mother. From between their heads, I could see a few speaking urgently to the woman, most likely trying to escort her out of the room. But they couldn't stop her voice.

"MURDERER! IS THIS WHAT JAPAN IS!? A COUNTRY THAT LETS KILLERS GET AWAY!?" Ouma's mother tried to shrug off one of the guards. When her husband wrapped his arms around her in a hug, the woman's screams transformed into heart wrenching sobs. "I just want my son back! I just want to raise him right! I want to tell him that he's not alone, that Mama's here for you! But...but now I can't do that! I can't say how I'm sorry for making him take care of us all alone! It's all gone… ALL GONE BECAUSE YOU MURDERED HIM!"

Murderer?

 _Murderer?_

 _Oh yeah, murderers. Those guys who murder people. I know all about them. I saw one right before my eyes once._

 _The sun, humidity, and heat of the rainforest that battered us the previous day gave way to fog, strong winds, and a chilliness this morning. Peering through the scope of my rifle, the mist reduced my visibility to a paltry 50 meters at best. Everything past that was a misty-wall behind the foliage. Not even the height advantage I got from sitting in a tree helped. The swaying branches and the river that had swelled from the recent monsoons were the only sources of movement within my field of vision._

 _My heart leapt to my throat when a sudden sound of flapping wings accompanied an inexplicable weight pushing down at the front of my rifle. I slowly removed my eye from the scope and saw a wild chicken perched on the barrel of my gun. As if spilling color into a black and white world, the bird's feathers were a bright red, blue, and orange left me speechless. The bird cocked its head as it stared at me with equal wonderment._

 _"Shoo." I waved a hand to scare it off. It did little as the chicken readjusted its feet to better balance itself. Getting comfortable, eh?_

 _I opened my mouth to try and more forcibly push away this loiterer, but something from the corner of my eye caught my attention. I swung the sniper in that direction. The violent action spooked the jungle fowl enough to have it fly away into the ravine. I pressed my eye to the scope and saw a small tan child running upstream alongside the river. Towards me._

 _The AK-47 that was strapped to his back flailed wildly with every running stride. The size disparity between the boy and the gun was almost comical. It was far too large for him. Could he even shoot it properly? I let out a relieved breath when there was no magazine in the gun. It seemed that my enemies were somewhat receptive to negotiations. Thankfully as a result, I didn't have to waste a bullet._

 _I balanced my gun upon my knees and held my hands to my mouth. I let out a shrill whistle that echoed in the ravine. Within moments I received thousands of responses from songbirds throughout the forest. However, I picked up a specific whistle from near my location. All was set. I slung the HK417 across my shoulder and lowered myself down the tree with a rope I had tied in advance. Benson and Danny met me at the bottom, which meant Takuya was with the prisoner._

 _I exchanged terse nods with them before making my way a few meters downhill where our guest was waiting. The boy held both hands in the air, allowing Danny to gently remove the AK from his back. Upclose, the child was even smaller than I thought, and the gun even bigger. Something within me stirred as I watched him wheeze. I reached to my side and unhooked a canteen, offering it to him after twisting the cap off._

 _"..." He stared at the plastic bottle suspiciously before looking at me warily._

 _I rolled my eyes and gestured again. He reached out with hesitant fingers before plucking the canteen from my fingers and greedily taking gulps of water._

" _Well?" I asked in Sinhalese when he finished and gave back a now half-full canteen._

" _... the Captain s-said… he will hear your demands."_

" _Is that so? I'll be quick about it then. I want as much food, water, and whatever fire producing materials he can fork over. Matches, charcoal, lighter fluid, I don't care. We'll have the exchange at the foot of the waterfall tomorrow at noon."_

 _I was only met with silence as the boy stared at me with wide-eyes._

" _...did you get all that?" I asked hesitantly._

 _All I got was a nod._

 _"Also..." I reached down to a pocket on my trousers and pulled out a small cloth package that I handed to him. "Tell the Captain 'I don't know how many more fingers your brother can afford to lose.'"_

 _Another stiff nod. I sighed and grabbed the AK from Danny's outstretched hands. I shoved it into the boy's arms and turned him around. A light shove to the back sprung him to life like a windup toy and he ran off. He looked over his shoulder once or twice as he grew more distant. A child-soldier. Obviously. War left no stone unturned, no family unbroken, no child unruined, no man unmade._

" _Shame." Benson commented, no doubt knowing what crossed my mind. He always had an uncanny ability to read my thoughts. "Too young."_

" _Yeah." I responded despondently. Benson gave me a brotherly clap on the shoulder and walked past, striking up banter with Danny. I watched as the two strolled away, likely to meet up with Takuya and the prisoner. My fingers curled into a painful fist and I resisted the urge to punch the trunk of the tree that stood to my side._

 _I could still remember when Komachi was that age._

 _The child-soldier returned within the hour, informing that the Captain had agreed to our demands and would meet us at the indicated location. It was a whole 15 hours away and I didn't remember going to sleep. The whiplash in climate struck again and the unforgiving sun made another appearance. It rose high in the sky as noon approached._

 _While I was inspecting the bullets inside my magazine, my team walked towards me with the prisoner in tow. His hands were bound behind his back, and he made no effort to resist. He was informed of the upcoming trade, and even his mewling in pain had subsided overnight. Danny reported that the man actually slept rather well last night._

" _You all understand the plan?" I slammed the magazine back into the rifle and pulled the bolt._

" _Yes, Sergeant." Takuya nodded. I traded looks with Benson and Danny who also nodded. Danny handed me the end of a rope that leashed our hostage._

" _We have about 30 minutes. Abid should have had the rest of the men and villagers into position. We have one shot, I want it to go cleanly. I'm counting on you Benson."_

 _Benton gave a salute and walked away into the brush, followed by Tatsuya and Danny. I shuddered and my world vibrated for a second before a sharp stinging pain in my temple rendered me immobile for a moment. The prisoner looked at me with raised eyebrows. I shook my head and pointed forward before tugging at the rope. He understood, and we began walking downstream._

 _The river grew deeper and deeper until there were two cliffs facing either side of the moving body of water. We were a few hundred meters away from the waterfall now, the sound of crashing waves could be heard. I pulled hard at the rope once, bringing us to a halt. I peered over the edge, and saw white rapids and nasty looking boulders jutting out from the riverbed. It was a solid 15 meter drop._

" _This should do."_

 _I wrapped the rope around my hand to shorten the length. I gave a violent jerk, the sudden force throwing the man onto his back. He yelped in surprise as I dragged him towards the edge. His eyes widened as he realized my intention._

 _"No… no… no! No, no, no, no, no, no! NO!" He screamed writhing and flailing on the ground. It was futile. His strength was miniscule from days of hunger, borderline hydration, and little sleep. I had him under my foot with relative ease._

 _My ears grated at the sounds of his cries and sobs. He turned bloodshot eyes towards me and shrieked. "WE HAD A DEAL! YOU SON OF A BITCH, WE HAD A DEAL!"_

 _Momentarily, the muscles in my arms froze. But the cool rational side of my brain spoke to me: loose-ends were loose-ends, and he knew our faces._

" _... sorry."_

 _I shoved him off the edge unceremoniously._

 _His scream echoed off the walls of the rock faces, only to be abruptly cut short by a sickening crack and squelch. I turned around, feeling my stomach immediately revolt. My throat seared with a chemical burn as acid bubbled up my trachea despite my damndest effort to quell it._

" _Improvement…" I whispered to myself, closing my eyes as sweat from my brow dripped down into my eyes. Ah, I was in the sun… they should be done by now._

 _And they were. When I arrived at the foot of the basin, the fine spray from the waterfall had done a wonderful job cooling me… as well as masking the smell of blood. It was a massacre, for better or for worse. At least 15 rebel soldiers laid dead on the river bank. My soldiers and villagers who volunteered to fight, were milling around making sure no one had the bright idea to feign death._

" _Ambush went off without a hitch, Sarge." Danny said, waving at me._

 _I swallowed dryly, but the bump in my throat didn't subside. "... I didn't hear a thing."_

 _Danny looked at me strangely. "Wasn't that the idea? Cover up the sounds with the waterfall."_

 _Yes. Yes, that's right. My idea._

 _We were running low on supplies, and there was a single enemy fortification in the area. If we made it past this zone, we'd be out of the territory of the rebel forces for several blissful kilometers. When did the idea come up? I can't recall. We captured a rebel and a child-soldier. A bloodied knife and painful screaming later, we found out the rebel was the younger brother of the Captain at the fortification. All that was left was concocting the scheme to lure them to an area where we had set up a firing squad._

 _It was all my plan._

" _Sarge, we got the supplies. Bastards actually brought 'em." Jameson called out, our resident Irishman said while lighting a cigarette._

 _I nodded once. Then twice. Then thrice._

" _S-search the bodies. Get what you can. 10 minutes at most, we need to grab the rest of the village and get out of here quickly."_

 _A chorus of affirmations greeted me._

" _Ghastly stuff." Jameson sighed, the bulky soldier looking like he aged a few years. "How many of them dead means less of a soul for me?"_

" _Shut it, James." Benson reprimanded wearily. "Just… quit it with the dumb maths and get to work."_

 _I nudged the prone carcass near my boot and waited several seconds before kicking the body over._

 _As I kneeled I felt a hand on my back. "The kid made it out."_

 _Tatsuya, ever reliable._

 _Without any words or hesitation I plunged my hands into his pockets and coats. A pistol. Bullets. Cigarettes. A flask with bourbon. A pen. I squinted my eyes in confusion when my hands brushed something strange. I pulled a leather wallet out from the man's inner coat sleeve. It was a bifold design, plain and flat on both sides, without a hint of branding._

 _My fingers slipped in between and flicked the wallet opened. On the inner wall, a plastic pouch housed a small color photo. An elderly woman with long gray locks was flanked by two men. Her arms wrapped around them tightly, and she had such a gentle smile on her face. These were probably her sons. My hands trembled as I recognized the face of the man on the right. How could I not? I had just sent him careening to his…_

 _Wait. If this was him… then the man by my feet must be his...and the woman their…_

 _I stood._

 _How many mothers have been crushed? How many bloodlines have been ended? How many futures have been cut short? How many families have been destroyed? How many were made brotherless? How many were made childless? Heirless? How many were made widows? How many…_

 _How many did I…?_

 _Without warning, I turned around and whipped my arm as I did, flinging the wallet away. It was immediately caught in the cascade of water and disappeared into the white._

" _I…"_

 _Yeah, I saw murderers. I knew them very well. I've encountered one up close. Real close. In my own body, wearing my own skin._

"Hikigaya-kun?"

"..."

"Hikigaya-kun!?"

"O-oh, Yukinoshita?" I blinked and my thoughts returned to the present. The courtroom was nearly empty. The Ouma family was nowhere in sight. The Judge had left their stand, with only the aide remaining as they organized various documents. Besides the ruffling of paper, all was quiet. Yukinoshita looked at me with worried eyes. "What's up?"

"Are you alright? You have seemed out of sorts since—"

"I'm fine." I waved off her concern. "I'm going to the police station."

"I'm not sure that you should. Shouldn't you take it easy and relax? Celebrate with your family?"

I laughed.

Δ▼Δ

"Congratulations, Hachiman." The Chief said with a smile as I sat down in the chair before him.

"Thanks, Chief." I eased into my seat, marveling at how much more plush and comfortable this leather chair was compared to the wooden one in the courtroom. "Glad that's over."

"I can imagine. How are you feeling?"

"...better. Good enough that I think that I can-"

"You're not coming back to the case." The Chief shot down my unspoken request instantly. "Oh, don't give me that look. I'm giving you another week off, come back when you're good and ready. Take things one step at a time. I'll talk to Shizuka about it when the time comes. I value your work, Hachiman. But the case isn't worth more to me than you or your health."

"What is with everyone?" I muttered.

"Welcome to life, people tend to be concerned about people they care about."

"...you okay, Chief?"

"I'm fine, Hachiman. You shouldn't have come back to work, but that's past the point now. I'll pay you for the hours you clock in, but I want you out at the normal time, okay?"

"Sir, yes sir."

"Good." The Chief nodded to himself. "Go to your department, people have been waiting on the news."

His words confused me, but I did as he instructed and walked down the halls until I reached my department's office. As soon as I took a seat at my desk, I heard Shiba screaming as he ran in.

"Sennnnnppppaaiii!"

"Shiba?" Oh yeah, his health leave was over.

The man stops before my desk and tries to catch his breath. "H-how did it go?"

"Acquitted of all charges." I answered briefly. My partner sighs a breath of relief and sinks to his knees.

Our conversation was overheard by the rest of the office. Soon, what felt like the entire police department was coming over to me and congratulating me on my victory in court.

It was surreal to be sure, I was certain I never even saw half of these people before. Yet word of my situation had spread throughout the building like wildfire.

Even though the stampede eventually died down, the positive vibe in the atmosphere could still be felt.

I'm certain a few police officers were pleased about the precedent my court case set. They too could one day enter a situation where they were forced to take down a criminal, and if the penalties for killing a person who was a danger to others would harm themselves, it would cause them to hesitate. They could do their jobs with peace of mind now.

"Oi, Hikigaya!" an unfamiliar voice called out. I turned around in my seat to see a few men walking towards me. I can vaguely remember them from the money laundering debriefing we had.

"... can I help you?" I asked unsurely, with a bit of caution.

"Wanna go out drinking to celebrate after hours?"

"I-uh what?" This was absolutely a new event in my life. My coworkers approaching me to go out drinking? Is this the start of my riajuu adulthood lifestyle?

"Shiba said he's coming along too, whaddya say?"

An idea popped into my head. A dark idea I couldn't help but find appealing.

"...sure, I guess."

 **Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**

Reference List:

[1] Reference to Big Stick ideology. In short, rules and laws can be construed as the "will" of societies and governments. To enforce these rules, certain amount of force is required to give the implication of consequence. Force doesn't need to be used, simply showing one's hand is enough to influence.

[2] A recent trend in manga/manwha/light novels/web novels is the idea of the abstraction of real life into a video game. Stats determine a person's constitution. Dialogue windows only the "player" can see that basically directs conversions and tells the player if relationships have advanced with other people. Hachiman is mocking this, seeing as how it doesn't reflect the complexity of real life.

* * *

 **Omake: "The Ballad of Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"**  
 _by_ _thatguy8801_ _:_

Deep within the glassy forest of Metropolitan Tokyo, there sat a certain scientific police precinct. But not just any police precinct, this peculiar location housed a great detective. A detective with a rather peculiar set of features, most notably his abhorrent personality and dead fish like eyes. Our dear detective reclined in his chair, dead eyes skimming over the 12th installment of a Light Novel he had increasingly come to enjoy.

His eyes reluctantly left the novel for the first time today at the sound of the office door slamming open. A familiar set of faces passed through the threshold, one slinking away to the secretary desk with the other made a beeline for the desk our dear detective blissfully sat.

"Senpaiiii, you missed our great social gathering that I'm sure you would have aced despite clear character traits that would beg to differ," a flushed Shiba exclaimed.

Our dear detective, Hikigaya Hachiman, waved off his partner. "Nonsense, I was too busy reading this fantastic light novel series I started last night. I highly recommend you read it, Infinite Stratos is perhaps the best piece of literature I have ever read and had the pleasure to immerse myself in." Hachiman adjusted his pristine new Infinite Stratos Shinonono Houki Figurine he picked up on his way to work this morning. "I'm going to head to the bathroom to finish my novel, please tell me which stall you and the secretary used so I may avoid it."

Shiba sighed in a riajuu fashion and let his superior take off, further annoying the flawless detective. Hachiman confidently strode out the office with confidence, but not before smirking a knowing smirk to the secretary in a move to further his intellectual pride and cement his superiority over the riajuu menace.

He made his way down the hall, his pace increased so he could reach his destination quicker and finish the greatest piece of literature known to humanity. His venture was cut short, however, when he spotted fellow detective Hiura making his way to him.

"Detective Hikigaya, thank goodness I found you." Hiura breathed a sigh of relief.

"What seems to be the matter," Hachiman coolly stated with a cold expression, ensuring that he no doubt emulated a certain character from another great piece of literature.

"There is some racket going on in the office district of Chiba right in front of a number of glass buildings that you must attend to immediately. Despite the fact you work in Homicides and have nothing really to do with general emergency affairs nor is there any reason for you to deal with non-detective work whatsoever, you are our best detective and we need you out there as soon as possible!" Hiura exclaimed, prostrating upon the linoleum tile.

Hachiman pondered his request for a moment before conceding. "Fine, but I'm taking my own car." He then proceeded to march through the offices of a certain scientific police precinct and out to the parking lot.

There he unlocked the doors of his wine red Aston Martin V8 Vantage with 5935 cc V12, All-Alloy, Quad Overhead Camshaft 48-Valve, 563 BHP 6650 RPM along with Rear Mid-Mounted, Seven-Speed 'Sportshift Iii' Automated Manual Transmission. In addition, this baby had Ventilated carbon ceramic matrix discs, 398 mm diameter with six-piston monobloc calipers front brakes and Ventilated carbon ceramic matrix discs, 360 mm diameter with four-piston monobloc calipers rear brakes. But that's not all, this incredible machine boasted a top speed of 205 mph and could go from 0-60 mph in 3.7 seconds. It was a perfect machine that he explicitly inherited (was given, received) by his former high school teacher and now friend and confidant, Hiratsuka Shizuka, with whom he has consistently and persistently interacted with on numerous occasions while riding in said vehicle. ThAt HoW hE gOt AsToN.

Peeling out of the lot, Hachiman raced to the Chiba office district. Upon his arrival, he stepped out to stare at the scene.

Before him stood an angel. No, this was more than an angel. Right in front of him stood his idol: Shinonono Houki. Not only his new idol, but the rest of the Infinite Stratos cast was present right in front of him.

After carefully calculating the situation, Hachiman only had one thought on his mind. _Now what would Ayanokouji do?_

Unfortunately for him, such a question would never be answered. A strange black mass manifested from one of the beautifully sculpted glass buildings.

One by one, the cast of Infinite Stratos was claimed by the mass. Seeing this horrific manhunt of his all time favorite series, Hachiman wrapped his pinky around Houki's pinky and made a dash through the glassy maze of office buildings.

Thinking he lost a certain magical black mass, Hachiman turned to Houki. "Houki, I love you with all my heart. Will you be my genuine?"

Houki, full of love and happiness, teared up and grabbed Hachiman's other pinky. But before she could respond, a certain magical black mass popped from around a building and consumed her.

Wracked with grief, Hachiman dropped to his knees, cursing the rom-com gods of his misfortune. He wiped the tears from his eyes, returning to that fine beast of a machine that was his wine red Aston Martin V8 Vantage with 5935 cc V12, All-Alloy, Quad Overhead Camshaft 48-Valve, 563 BHP 6650 RPM along with Rear Mid-Mounted, Seven-Speed 'Sportshift Iii' Automated Manual Transmission. In addition, the baby had Ventilated carbon ceramic matrix discs, 398 mm diameter with six-piston monobloc calipers front brakes and Ventilated carbon ceramic matrix discs, 360 mm diameter with four-piston monobloc calipers rear brakes. But that's not all, this incredible machine boasted a top speed of 205 mph and could go from 0-60 mph in 3.7 seconds. Opening that luscious door, he grabbed the Rear Mid-Mounted, Seven-Speed 'Sportshift Iii' Automated Manual Transmission, and took off to the underground racing track; where the first clue of his new adventure awaited.

 **END OF PART 1**

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **This was quite possibly, the hardest chapter to write. I had finished the original chapter 24 nearly a year prior (even before I published Chapter 1 on FFnet). But as time went on, and my skills as a writer grew and my ambitions for the story expanded, I found myself changing things along the way. Chapter 24 was the first instance that I completely scrapped the old chapter and wrote it from scratch.**

 **The difficulty was from the complex and nuanced emotions I was trying to have the character's convey. This really discourages me from trying anything close to it in future stories.** **I had the bright idea of having a conversation between two characters while both the audience and the characters are aware of another conversation going on in the middle of it all. This drove me insane.**

 **This chapter isn't completely satisfactory, but I just wanted it out there. I feel especially guilty for my piss poor use of Komachi. She barely makes an appearance in Unmade, and now I have her as a major plot device. I'll fix this in my future works.**

 **Thanks to all my editors, especially Xynovitch, thatguy8801, Bchets, and yahallo. I frequently bothered you all at obscene hours and more often than not screeched my frustration at writer's block into chat.** **Thanks to Xynovitch and thatguy8801 for being soundboards and keeping me motivated to see this through. Bchets, thank you so much for being a voice of reason and critique that guided my writing. Special thanks to yahallo for giving a grammar pass-over within 12 hours of me finishing this monstrosity. They're all writers on FFnet, check out their works!**

 **-SouBU**

 **(Editors:** **Editors: Lord of Admirals; Xynovitch; thatguy8801; Bchets; yahallo)**

* * *

 **Omake Author's Note:**

 **Hello all! I am thatguy8801, a new editor for Sou. You may be wondering to yourself, why is this awful piece here? Well, Sou gave himself a hard deadline that he failed to meet; and so this monstrosity of a joke was born.**

 **As further motivation, I've decided to make this one off omake a multi-episodic thing. I hope, for both his sake and mine, that future deadlines are met.**

 **Until next time!**

 _Revision Log:  
07/03/2020 - Minor grammatical errors and missing words fixed_ **  
**


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